Rooftop Conversations
by Bobbie23
Summary: The conversation feels like a goodbye and he's not sure what he's done to warrant it. He's never known anyone to be this relaxed around him after his alter ego tried to kill them.
1. Chapter 1

Rooftop Conversations

Unbroken bright blue sky reigns over the city, converging on the vibrant orange sun slowly dipping into the horizon. The tranquillity is mesmerising and Bruce can't look away from the vast sky which had a massive intergalactic hole punched through it with an alien army pouring out of it less than twenty-four hours before. It is nice to see it again, especially this empty. He doesn't allow his peripheral to dip lower than the rooves, nor does he let his mind dwell on the rubble or damaged buildings, some of which his alter ego is no doubt responsible for. Instead he tries to focus on the fact there would be more people dead, more destruction if he hadn't helped the team thrown together in the last few days. It certainly is a different outcome from what he is used to, not really one he wanted to repeat either.

It hadn't taken long for the media to track them back to Stark Tower and they've been camped on the pavement outside ever since. An official statement was made via SHIELD but they were eager for a peak at the people who helped avert annihilation. The attention is disconcerting for him, while generally positive, from media and public, there are a few voices urging for caution of the so-called heroes. A view he holds and voiced on the helicarrier. One wrong move, a word out of turn and this could all go to hell in a second; they could save the world or destroy it. Only time would tell which. He thinks the battle will spark more questions, more pre-emptive and public planning which will likely result in the development of more weapons to 'defend' the planet, much like the ones Fury kept from them.

For now, people seem content on dealing with the aftermath and fixing the broken city. New Yorkers showed their resilience by working side by side with military and SHIELD; clearing debris, rescuing the trapped and injured, honouring those who lost their lives, pledging to carry on in their name. Bruce wants to help but he feels tense after the battle yesterday, the Other Guy is on edge after two transformations so close together. The situation on the ground is tense as it is and he doesn't want to risk the crowds so he volunteered to oversee the dismantling of the device Selvig built for Loki to use the tesseract, which had been removed by Thor yesterday and hasn't left his side since. He'd gone over the machine himself, out of curiosity. Selvig is a brilliant scientist but he was promptly secured by SHIELD agents and was escorted away for _debriefing_ shortly after the portal was sealed, all while rambling on about everything the tesseract revealed to him. Bruce throws a weary glance at the scientists Fury sent to secure it for transport who had been wide eyed at meeting him; he still wasn't sure if it was because of the Hulk or genuine admiration for his _achievements_ as they claimed _._

The tell-tale swoosh of the door opening is the only warning he gets to someone sneaking up on him. He's felt her eyes for a while, it's a side effect of being on the run for years. But he's got good reason to be overly paranoid especially after Agent Romanoff's revelation that he never completely disappeared. Not to SHIELD anyway, given the ease with which she found him. Though he gets the impression her definition of 'off grid' is beyond his. He shakes his head, wondering if he made the right decision to accept Stark's offer or if he should challenge himself to disappearing on her level. It's tempting but he thinks it would be virtually impossible to do right now.

Moments after the door closes, Natasha appears at his side. He feels her presence rather than sees her, his eyes on the contraption which is now in sealed in a box and being taken into the building. They don't greet each other or say anything else till the roof clears completely. Only then does he turn to her, his eyes catching on the strands of her copper hair flying about in the breeze. She pays him no heed, her attention on the view around them. The aura of indifference she usually exudes drops for a split second that he thinks he would've missed it if he blinked, but he sees and senses her relief and relaxation. It's done, it's over, for now. He suspects this is just a small breather for her. Nothing like this is ever really done. There's always another assignment.

"It's beautiful," she breathes out with a hint of a smile. He doesn't expect the sentiment from her but he's spurred into agreeing.

"Yeah," he replies, his eyes still on her. She turns to him then, her questioning eyes boring into his and he feels like he's been busted for either gazing at her intruding on her privacy, he doesn't know which, probably both. He flusters a little as he clarifies with a gesture, "The view."

Her eyes sparkle good naturedly as her lips quirk, her tongue darts out to moisten them, and she returns her focus to the scene around them. He wonders if she came to check on him of her own volition or if she was ordered to.

"Did you need me for something?" Bruce asks with more bite than he intends. Then the sparkle disappears as her posture subtly changes, her back straighten a smidgen, her head lifts and eyes narrow a fraction. She mulls over his question for a long time. He doesn't think it's because he caught her off guard, he didn't. He wouldn't see the indecisiveness unless she wanted him to. Then she turns to him, meets his eyes with an assessing stare. Usually he would assume she was wary of him, she probably is after the way the Other Guy went after her but this isn't that.

"I just wanted to check if you need transport back to Calcutta?" She asks quietly still assessing him as his responds.

"No, I'm staying in New York for a bit," Bruce replies, surprised by her almost tentative offer. If he knew her better, he would be certain she was expecting another answer and she seems disheartened by his. Maybe she wanted him and the Other Guy as far away as possible; he couldn't blame her after he tried to smear her into a wall. Then the look disappears and her expression is neutral as she tilts her head to the side in silent question. _Details_. Right. "Tony asked me to help with a few ideas." He pauses, shrugs hesitantly. "I don't know, sounds better than what I had to go back to."

"I thought you wanted your life back; the peace and quiet you know," she says heavily and, not for the first time, he feels like he's missing something. Inwardly he shakes the feeling off, not sure if she's disappointed by that, not sure if he wants to know what she knows. He doesn't think he needs to explain that science was once his life and he's spent years trying to grasp some connection to it and this opportunity could be it. She seems more concerned with her inability to read him and she watches him closely as she speaks. "Anything else sounds more peaceful than hanging around with Stark," she pulls a face and he rewards her with indulgent smile.

"And he speaks so highly of you," he quips.

"I bet," she counters with an eye roll and the smirk returns, the thick air around them dissipating quickly. Natasha leans forward to rest her folded arms on the railing and he mimics her by leaning forward to rest his hands on it too.

He waits a beat, watches her watch the sky for a moment before asking, "Did you really put his driver in a head lock with your ankles?"

"He mentioned that, huh?" She asks with a devilish little smile.

"It came up," he quickly bobs his head. Tony's description of the encounter had been elaborate and, before he met the woman, Bruce would have said the billionaire was embellishing only now he'd seen Natasha in action he knew the description was probably apt.

She cocks an eye brow. "Does that surprise you?"

"Not really," he chuckles with a head shake wondering how their antipathy toward each other morphed into playful banter. To his surprise, she appears to be genuinely entertained by their easy back and forth, matching each other much like they did during that first meeting. Normally he'd apologise but her ambush unnerved him so he feels like they're even.

"To be fair, he tried to punch me," Natasha argues jokingly.

"So, he deserved it," Bruce says dryly and she smirks at him again.

"I never said that," she counters playfully. "Not exactly what I planned but it got Starks' attention."

"You certainly did that," Bruce murmurs good naturedly, not sure why he found Starks' indignation so funny when he described the woman's infiltration of his company. There's a fine between Starks' anger and his appreciation or he's at least angry at having to show appreciation, Bruce gets the impression Stark usually deflects both with a balance of sarcasm and hyperbole.

"The guy knows how to hold a grudge," Natasha shrugs, nonplussed. "Would've been better if it had been Stark," she adds and he can't stop the snicker which escapes.

"I can see the appeal."

"I thought you liked Stark." She's baiting him. He's willing to take it.

"He's honest and I like working with him. He has a unique perspective and likes to push boundaries, not just scientific ones," he says pointedly. Her eyes roll. "He also said you helped save his life."

She accepts the soft acknowledgement without so much as a flicker, as if it were nothing. Instead she changes the subject. "I didn't know you were open to job offers, SHIELD would-."

"I won't work for SHIELD," Bruce cuts in with a tone which leaves no room for argument, all previous joking gone in an instant. He isn't confident in the shadowy agency who apparently kept track of him over the years and he's not staying for them. He considered Starks' offer and his assurances for a long time before accepting. He doesn't doubt Starks' earnest promises but he knows there's some overlap with SHIELD projects and he knows Stark consults on them. Despite his experiences since the accident, he feels safe enough to stay. Ross would've shown his face by now if it wasn't.

"Understandable," Natasha accepts easily.

"You never answered my question on the helicarrier," Bruce says. She looks at him quizzically. "Did you know what Fury was planning to do with the Tesseract?"

"Believe it or not I don't always agree with how he does what he does but I believe he has good intentions." She pauses, pondering her own answer.

"Do you always make excuses for your boss?"

"It's more than I can say for any of my previous employers," she replies with a shrug and returns her gaze to the horizon.

Bruce watches her watching the setting sun for a moment. "Sounds like you've been doing this for a while." He doesn't know what compels him to ask but the woman intrigues him.

"Yeah, long time," she replies stiffly and Bruce doesn't push it. She can't be more than thirty and he wonders what constitutes a long time. Given the ease she fights with, the natural grace in the way she moves, she has years of experience. He isn't privy to her history or anything beyond the quiet plan ride from Calcutta or the few short conversations they've had since. Unlike Steve, Stark or Thor, whose exploits are public record, she was shrouded in mystery and rumour and, in Tony's tale, gossip. He wasn't completely off the grid in Calcutta, news of superheroes was rife there too.

"When are you leaving?" He asks her. Though she hasn't said, the conversation feels like a goodbye and he's not sure what he's done to warrant it. He's never known anyone to be this relaxed around him after his alter ego tried to kill them.

"Tomorrow; Fury's still trying to get Loki to talk," she replies.

"Think he'll get anywhere?" Bruce asks out of curiosity. Natasha mulls it over then shrugs. Personally, he thinks the adopted Asgardian will remain tight lipped after the way he was tricked last time. Thor voiced suspicions that someone else was backing his brother, using him to test Earth and its' inhabitants.

"Doubtful," she wrinkles her nose. "He's not said anything of real importance since he surrendered. Nice job by the way," she says with a hint of admiration and he frowns in confusion.

"What with?"

"You don't remember making the Loki sized dents in Stark's floor?" She points a finger toward the living area through the double doors.

"Oh that, Stark mentioned something," Bruce flushes. "That was the Other Guy."

"You don't remember anything that happens when you're-."

"Flashes," he cuts her off awkwardly. He sees something akin to understanding flicker across her face before the sly grin returns.

"Well, I appreciate the Big Guy's style, kinda wish I could pull it as easily."

"Even when he's trying to smear you into a wall?" Bruce pauses for Natasha to react. When she doesn't, he drops his voice. "I'm really sorry about what happened on the helicarrier."

"You already apologised," Natasha points out softly.

"I know and it'll never be adequate, especially because we had an audience and aliens getting ready to attack," he gestures awkwardly toward the sky they poured out of yesterday.

"I get it. You feel like nothing will be enough to wipe your slate clean," she tells him knowingly. And once more, Bruce wonders about her past.

"Best I can hope for is to balance it out."

"Like you were doing in Calcutta."

"Yeah," he says, rethinking his decision to stay.

"There's more than one way to help people Doc," Natasha says as if reading his thoughts, more likely his expression.

"Guess I'll find out," Bruce shrugs and they fall into a companionable silence for several minutes watching over the city they saved. The sun gradually dips into the horizon, a deeper shade of blue takes over the sky as the temperature starts to drop. "Sun's getting low," he murmurs.

"We survived another day," she says almost to herself, leaning further over the railing.

"Do you need that kind of affirmation?" He asks gently with a curious frown. She doesn't strike him as someone who would.

"No," she confirms. "But it's nice to be able to enjoy a beautiful view."

"It's hard to imagine a different ending while looking at it."

"Is it?" Natasha says looking over her shoulder at him.

"No, it's not," comes his solemn reply. Without another word, they return their gaze to the view and enjoy it for another few minutes before her phone starts to ring. She checks caller ID and throws him an apologetic glance as she pushes away from the railing, walking backwards toward the door.

"I gotta take this," Natasha says.

"It's fine," he assures her as her hand grasps the door handle.

She pauses, appraises him for a moment, her phone still ringing. "You know, if the inadequate apology bothers you so much, you can buy me dinner the next time I'm in New York."

It takes him a moment to comprehend her offer and he feels the heat creep up his neck to his face. "You're on," he hears himself agree before he can stop himself. "Come here often?" He asks.

"Often enough," she says pushing through the glass door, smiling warmly at him.

 **Anyone interested in a second chapter? Let me know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note – A big thanks goes to Black Victor Cachat. Spoilers for** _ **Iron Man 3**_ **.**

Chapter Two - We Create Our Own Demons

" _My name is Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you."_

Bruce is in the kitchen pouring a cup of tea when he's distracted by the sight of Tony on the news issuing an open invitation to the Mandarin after Happy was hurt in the explosion he claimed credit for.

His mouth drops open, dumbfounded, when his friend states his address and a death threat in the same sentence. The scene cuts back to the studio where the news anchor talks through the events, mostly about the explosion which has the medias' independent experts stumped. Aside from the usual assurance of using all available resources to track down the Mandarin to alleviate mass panic, there's a distinct lack of information from authorities which leads Bruce to believe they either have nothing or the information they do have is too alarming to become public knowledge. Bruce watches for another couple of moments before a cough from the door draws his attention. His gaze flicks toward the door to find Natasha leaning against the frame, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, watching him with that neutral expression of hers. With both hands occupied, he acknowledges her with an upturn of his lips as he tries not to stare at her longer, straightened hair.

"You might want to stop pouring now Doc," she advises, her lips settling into a slanted smile.

For a long beat, he stares at her without being able to comprehend her words till he feels the hot liquid on his hand resting on the counter beside his cup. He lifts his hand quickly, grumbling at himself under his breath as he rights the tea pot to stop the flow. He sighs and places it on the rest and uses a towel to dry his hand, quickly coming to the conclusion that he doesn't need to run it under the cool tap to stop it from burning.

"Thanks," he mutters sheepishly as Natasha pushes away from the frame to cross the room to him, peering at his hand curiously.

Apparently, she comes to the same conclusion he has because she acknowledges his gratitude with a simple, "Doc."

Then, she does something he would never expect, and picks up his cup and tipping some tea out into the sink before wiping the cup and counter with a cloth. Then she grabs an empty cup from the cupboard and pours her own tea. He stares openly at her as she does this without meeting his gaze or saying anything. Once she's finished she carries both cups to the table, leaving him to trail behind her as she slips into one of the chairs, placing one cup in front of the chair adjacent to hers and the other in front of her. Her bag drops to the floor and her foot pushes it under the table. She looks at him expectantly over her shoulder when he hesitates to take her silent invitation. He's still confused by her sudden appearance and his embarrassing accident with the tea pot, but is spurred into action when her foot pushes the chair out for him.

"It's been a while," Bruce tells her as he drops into the chair and his hand curls around the warm cup.

The last time they saw each other was nearly two months ago when she sought him out in his lab after she saw Tony for his regular consult. As it turns out, Natasha's definition of 'often enough' is different from Bruce's, either that or her assignments have kept her busy for months since the Chitauri attack, mostly she's based out of DC working with Steve. She's only visited the Tower a few times in the months since the invasion and they were sporadic and fleeting, usually when Tony refuses to co-operate with other agents sent by Fury. Since Coulson's death, the billionaire has a low tolerance for replacement SHIELD agents and as much as the woman annoys Tony, he is too terrified of her to complain. Bruce usually only finds out she's in the building when they pass each other in the hallway if she has to venture into the R and D floors and she'll bestow him with a simple acknowledgement; a head nod, a quick uttering of "Doc".

"Don't worry, I'm not here to bring you in," she assures him sans smile and comfort.

"That's not what I'm worried about. Is SHIELD going after the Mandarin?"

"No," she sighs. "At least not yet," she adds when he frowns. At least she didn't try to fob him off with it being classified. "Stark has access to everything we have but it's not much. We've kept tabs on him because he's using tech we haven't seen before but no one's been able to identify it. The military already has a task force in place. After the invasion, they have a point to prove to the public."

"If they can't deal with international terrorists, how are they going to deal with intergalactic ones?" Bruce surmises and she nods.

"Pretty much," she takes a sip of tea, savours the flavour then takes another sip.

"If you're not here for SHIELD, why are you here?" Natasha barely flickers at his slightly abrupt tone. He doesn't mean to sound snippy but it's a natural response when he's under pressure.

"Stark called, he wants the Tower on lockdown, no one in but employees. That's not going to be hard with most people heading home for the holidays, the building is operating on a skeleton staff from tonight. Spotting anything out of the ordinary is going to be easy but he asked me to double check it all because, in his words, who's better to oversee it than the spy who is so duplicitous, conniving-"

Bruce holds up a hand to stop her, he can imagine Tony's tirade about the woman in front of him. He's heard it before, usually uttered with a hint of amusement and admiration, but his friend lashes out when he's backed into a corner. "He's panicking," he defends with an apologetic glance.

"Putting it mildly," Natasha says with feeling, unoffended by Tony's words. "You don't need to apologise for him," Natasha tells him before he utters the words. "He's scared and backed himself into a corner, I'm not going to hold a few words said in anger against him," she shrugs. "The stubborn bastard's gone to ground at the beach house."

"That's very understanding of you," Bruce states though it sounds like a question. He glances at the outline of his phone in his pocket and considers calling Tony, wonders whether his friend would answer if he does. "Do you think he'll let us help?"

"Probably not," she says, ignoring the way he presumes to include her. "But that won't stop you from phoning him."

"No." Bruce will call but he'll wait until he's alone. He knows how Tony can get when he's like this. His mind will be working overtime, focused on finding the Mandarin without thinking about the bigger picture. Tony will think he's protecting those he cares about by locking the world out, so much so that he refuses to listen to those closest to him at times like this too. Even Pepper.

He winces at his thoughts and Natasha notices, inclining her head in silent question. His eyes snap to hers and he smothers the smile threatening to form as he remembers how good she is at reading people. Anger issues aside, Bruce likes to think he's got control over his other emotions and tells. She makes him throw all of those assumptions out of the window.

"So, you're here alone? No Barton? Or Steve?" Bruce says, straining to hear if anyone was out in the corridor. He's curious because she usually works with them, even if this is independent from SHIELD.

"Cap's in DC working with the Strike team, and Barton's taking some time out," she explains evenly. "Stark said I could use one of the rooms on the private floors while I'm here and he offered your services to show me around," Natasha explains. "He never bothered to after the attack, he wanted to get me out the building as soon as he could."

"Of course he did," Bruce chuckles as he lifts his cup to his mouth, sipping quickly.

A short time later, Bruce leads the way along the long corridor toward the private rooms explaining the renovations the Tower has undergone since the invasion. He naturally drifts in the direction of his own as Natasha follows with a bemused expression. She isn't obvious but he's sure she's taking note of all exit routes and security measures already in place, as well as identifying weak spots she needs to improve. Bruce finishes his brief tour at the end of the corridor.

"Tony wanted to make sure we have a base if we have to work together again. I just think he likes the company, no matter how much he says otherwise. Mine's here," he gestures to the door to his right. "The rest are empty, pick whichever one you want."

Natasha makes an exaggerated, well exaggerated for her and subtle for most, glance up and down the corridor before stepping backwards to the door opposite his. "I'll stow my stuff in here."

"Uh, JARVIS will assign it to you, only you will decide who has access," Bruce says. "Pepper made Tony put a privacy setting on the rooms."

"Small mercies," she mutters. She opens the door by placing her thumb on the reader and it beeps before going green. She leans in and puts her duffle on the closest piece of furniture to the door. "I need to head back downstairs. I told security to shut the building down before coming up but I need to go over other ways of infiltrating the building," she says with a knowing smile.

"Do I want to know?" He wonders out loud and she huffs in amusement.

"Let's just say SHIELD explored other options to get to Stark but Fury sent me in because I would be more effective," Natasha's shrug is coupled with an eyeroll.

"You kept him alive," Bruce reminds her heavily, the current situation clearly on his mind. It may not be the same outcome this time, especially when he's made sure they can't interfere.

"Don't remind me," she groans jokingly. He looks at her sharply. There's no love lost between Natasha and Tony and Bruce knows she's not serious but it's not the time. Her eyes soften and she looks contrite as she takes half a step toward him, her voice dropping. "Look, if I've learnt one thing about Stark when he's in self-destruct mode, the more you try to help, the more he pushes you away. He won't let you figure it out for him, he's got to do that himself. Unfortunately, he usually has to hit rock bottom before he does. It's when he works best," she tells him softly. He sees her worried expression then she quickly blinks it away to a neutral expression. "He gave me a job to do and I'm going to go do it. You've got a call to make," she reminds him as she walks away without another word.

…

" _You have reached the voice mail of Tony Stark-."_ Bruce presses disconnect for the fifth time with a sigh. It was a long shot at best but he thought after months of working with the man, he would get some credit when it came to a crisis like this. Or at least some explanation.

His thumb hovers over Tony's name for good thirty seconds before he changes his mind and scrolls through his contacts and finds Pepper's name instead. He taps the green phone symbol and lifts it to his ear. It rings a couple of times and he expects it to go to voicemail any seconds now when the ringing stops and her voice filters across the speaker. "Bruce," she breathes out, sounding stressed and relieved at the same time. "I'm sorry we haven't called."

"No, it's okay," he assures her as he paces his bedroom. "I was trying to get hold of Tony but-."

"He wouldn't answer," Pepper tells him with a sigh. She mutters something under her breath and Bruce doesn't quite catch it but he smiles indulgently as he recognises her tone. "He's locked himself away in the garage, trying to figure this all out."

"How are you doing?" Bruce asks. Tony's outlandish behaviour and reactions usually draws attention away from his other half, not that she minds, she deals with anything thrown at her with her seemingly effortless cool and endless patience, but her feelings get over looked sometimes, even by Tony.

"I'm worried about Happy," she admits and he can hear her heels clicking on polished floors as she walks. "I'm worried about Tony and what he'll do if Happy doesn't pull through."

"Yeah, I saw the news," Bruce admits. She groans loudly as he hears a loud beep on her end. "He closed the Tower too."

"He's made the same order for all Stark facilities. I'm trying to get him out of the house but he won't." Pepper sounds distracted as he hears the beep again. "He's closed the balcony off," she explains with a huff before he can ask.

"With good reason," comes Tony's voice from the background.

"You gave out our address," is Pepper's curt reply. "Bruce is on the phone," she says to Tony before addressing Bruce as sweetly as she can manage in the circumstances. "I'll speak to you soon Bruce, I'll pass you over to Tony. I'm going to go pack."

"But we're not going anywhere," Tony argues.

Bruce barely has time to respond before he hears Tony's 'oomph' as Bruce can only assume she pushed the phone into his chest.

"Hey, buddy," Tony's drawl does little to cover the awkwardness. "I should've called but I'm kind of busy with international terrorists setting off explosions, you get the gist."

"I understand, Tony," Bruce explains before tacking on, "I want to help."

His words surprised himself. He only intended to check on his friends, reassure himself Tony is handling the situation in his own unique way and isn't in over his head, but hearing Pepper's tension and Tony's over the top enthusiasm he offered his services before he realised he is willing to help in any way they need.

"I appreciate the offer but I've got this," Tony says dropping his voice and all bravado, sounding tired and weary. "I think this situation calls for something more delicate than the Big Guy smashing something."

Bruce wants to ask how challenging a terrorist is 'delicate' but holds his tongue, instead clarifies his offer. "I didn't mean just him Tony."

"I know, and thanks. But there's always a possibility he'll want to come out and play and I'm not going to put that on your conscience if it ends badly. It's not fair to expect you or him to have anything to do with this, it's not your fight."

Bruce glances around to double check he's alone before turning toward the receiver. Tony has done so much for him since the Invasion, given him a job and a place to live, even if it took him months to stop looking over his shoulder even in the state of the art labs where he feels most at home. It may seem like nothing to Tony, but Bruce feels indebted to the generosity his friend has shown him.

"You can't take this terrorist on your own," Bruce presses not really expecting details even if Tony can divulge them.

"If the Mandarin comes for me here he could target the Tower next. At least this way I know you and Romanoff are already there to protect it," Tony says. "And if I don't manage to," he pauses, huffs over word choices. "If this goes wrong I need you in New York, I need you to drive R and D."

While Bruce appreciates the honesty it's hard to hear Tony's lack of confidence. Bruce has never known him to be anything less than a hundred percent certain on an idea or plan, even if no one else agreed with him. Scratch that. Especially when _no one_ else agreed with him. His stubborn streak is full force then. Bruce never knew him before the invasion he's still noticed the quiet moments befalling the billionaire which Tony thinks he's hiding from everyone, but Natasha's earlier statement stops him from commenting.

' _He won't let you figure it out for him, he's got to do that himself. Unfortunately, he usually has to hit rock bottom before he does. It's when he works best.'_

While he knows she's right, he's not ready to give up on talking some sense into Tony. "What about you and Pepper? You can't just sit there and wait for this guy to come to you. Come to the Tower."

"No," Tony says sharply. "It's just as dangerous there. New York is still rebuilding after the invasion, I don't what will will happen if we have another showdown there. There's more space, less chance of public injury. I can protect her here; the suits are here."

"Bring them with you," Bruce urges again but he's met with stubborn silence. Then he tries a different tact. "You're upsetting Pepper."

"She doesn't understand why I'm doing this."

"She does," Bruce sighs. "I don't think you're taking her opinion into consideration."

"It's safer here," Tony grinds out as if he's repeated himself over and over.

"You announced your address to several news outlets and it's been broadcast several hundred times by now, watched by millions. And that's not counting print or online publications."

"It was already public information," Tony counters. "I called the Mandarin out, and yeah, some people would class it as reckless and stubborn, but someone had to."

"I saw the footage, the journalist baited you into making that statement. He played you."

"And I gave them what they wanted to hear," Tony admits with less ire than before. "What's done is done Bruce, I'm not going to run from this guy because he needs stopping."

"What's going to happen after you sacrifice yourself? And Pepper? Who is going to help you pick up the pieces because you're shutting everyone out?" Bruce questions carefully, trying to get Tony to consider the wider situation. If Bruce can get him to think of the consequences, to plan for them, he hopes Tony will rethink refusing help.

"I don't know, I haven't thought that far ahead."

"Then let us help," Bruce pleads again grasping at Tony's waiver.

"No," comes the firm reply. Bruce drops his head in defeat thinking he was too pushy. "I'm grateful, I am, and it's not that I don't want your help, it's that I don't know how you can help when I don't even know what _I_ can do. You'll be the first call I make when I figure it out."

"That's all I can ask," Bruce relents.

"But in the meantime, you'll be doing me a huge favour by playing nice with Red."

Bruce's lips twitch in spite of himself. "Uh, I've shown her around like you asked."

"You don't sound too sure there, Brucey," Tony says sounding more like himself; Bruce knows better than try to correct him on the nick name.

Bruce frowns, "It kind of feels like you got me a babysitter."

"Not you, the Tower," Tony corrects. "I know she's not your favourite person but I couldn't think of anyone except our former assassin, besides Pepper or Happy, to oversee it and they're a little busy."

"What do you mean she's not my favourite person?"

"You avoid Romanoff whenever she's in the building," his friend states.

"No I don't," Bruce answers, rolling his eyes at himself. Engaging Tony in this kind of conversation is like arguing with a two-year-old and the man thrives on it, especially if it reveals something embarrassing about his opponent. While not classed as embarrassing, Bruce wants to keep his fleeting interaction with Natasha to himself and he's certain she will appreciate his discretion. "We'll be fine," he tries to cover a moment later, hoping Tony doesn't jump on the hesitation.

"Hmm," Tony murmurs. "You're lucky I don't have more time, because I'd press for details."

Bruce is willing to take the small mercy Tony is offering him. "If you need anything…"

"I'll call," Tony says even though they both know he's lying. "There is one thing, when is a bomb not a bomb?" Tony questions distractedly and Bruce isn't sure if he's asking him or just thinking out loud.

"Huh?"

…..

A short time later in his lab, Bruce watches the live stream of the Mandarins' attack on the beach house, presumably with Tony and Pepper still inside. He's rooted to the spot in his lab as he watches the structure buckling under the never-ending fire power being rained down upon it. The main section pulls away from the cliff edge as another missile hits it. For safety, the news helicopter retreats and its view is partially obscured by distance and landscape and he has to rely on commentary from the journalist and pilot.

Bruce's hand curl tightly, his knuckles turning white with anger. His breath catches in his throat as the helicopters don't relent in their onslaught as he notes the blasts aimed at them from the almost destroyed house. The presumption that Tony is starting to fight back and his efforts are rewarded when one of the helicopters crashes into the sea but it is little comfort to Bruce as the house continues to take a battering when a second helicopter crashes into the unstable house and creates a freefall into the sea. He can't see any sign of his friend among the debris.

Bruce stares, slack-jawed, till the screen cuts back to the studio and turns the television off as soon as someone starts to say Tony bought this on himself. He breathes out through his nose, tries to regain control of the anger he feels building. He turns on his heel sharply then falters when he notices Natasha in the doorway watching him, for once her mask down and her remorse clear in her eyes.

"Is there anything SHIELD can do?" He asks, his tone bordering on pleading.

"Fury is sending a team to help clear the scene, but the President wants Rhodes and military to take the lead because he wants the public to know he's taking action."

"He doesn't want the public to think money spent on the Iron Patriot rebrand was pointless," Bruce adds bitterly. He looks back at the blank screen.

"Rhodes is Starks' friend," Natasha reminds him evenly and Bruce nods.

He has nothing against Rhodes, he knows how competent he is but there's part of him which thinks the government should do more for Tony given how much he has done for them. He's not just angry at the government for failing to stop the Mandarin before the attack, he's angry at himself for letting Tony rebuff his offer. Rhodes doesn't deserve to have his mood projected onto him. On the few occasions they've met, Bruce found him to be a decent guy who is almost as passionate about the Iron Patriot programme as Tony is about the suits. He's a good foil for their friend, his military training means he's just as determined though not as impulsive when it comes to this type of situation. Bruce knows Rhodes won't stop until he's caught the Mandarin.

"Sorry," he apologises after a moment. "I just feel useless."

"That feeling is going around," she consoles. That makes him feel worse, it must be awful for her to sit here and wait. He's used to staying out of situations like this, she's not. "They haven't found a body," Natasha reminds him and though she sounds genuine, he knows her optimism is for his benefit.

"It'll take days for divers to search through the debris that fell into the sea, and that doesn't account for the current spreading the wreckage. The suit should have a tracker, Jarvis can-"

"They think it was a malfunctioning prototype," Natasha cuts in gently as she steps into the room. "SHIELD is trying to confirm which suit he was wearing but they can't connect to JARVIS. Security team here said they can't access JARVIS either."

He slowly turns to face her and he drops back to rest against the counter behind him. The injustice of the situation weighing heavily on him.

"He's been making a lot of new suits since New York," Bruce says quietly.

"Must be difficult to fly a nuke through a wormhole," she comments as she stops in front of him.

"You think that's why he's making them?"

"He's enhancing the suits for every eventuality out of self-preservation. Free-falling through space really puts your mortality into perspective, especially when you end up comparing yourself to aliens, gods, and the Big Guy." Natasha's lips curl upward slightly as she elaborates.

He can't argue with her assumptions. It seemed like each time they talked, Tony was working on a new variation. Lately he started talking about designing a Hulk-sized suit. He pitched it to Bruce as a failsafe for the other guy but Bruce has the feeling Tony wants the chance to go toe to toe with the Hulk just because he can.

"Just because I haven't found a way to destroy the Other Guy, doesn't mean there isn't one," Bruce replies darkly, ignoring the low growl in the back of his mind.

"What happens to you in that scenario?" Natasha asks.

He scans her face neutral face and finds it hard to hold her green eyes, which are full of curiosity and a touch of warmth. Not sure how to read her, he shrugs as he looks away. He knows the likely outcome of killing the Other Guy but came to terms with it a long time ago, and willingly accepted it at one point. He doesn't know if he'd say the same now, not since he decided to stay after New York.

"I'm not exactly contributing much," he answers eventually. His hands flex, fidgeting out of need to do something besides hang at his side, normally he would push them into his pockets but he plucks his glasses off his nose and he cleans them on the corner of his shirt, taking his attention away from Natasha for a moment. He perches them on his nose, his blurry vision correcting itself as the lenses settle in front of his eyes. He regrets it immediately as he's caught by the earnest expression on Natasha's face.

"You do more than you think you do," Natasha counters.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you came to New York when you could've kept running," she tells him. "And you offered to help Stark with the Mandarin."

"What good did that do? I let him refuse it," Bruce argues.

"You knew he would," she points out. "But you could've ignored him and done it anyway."

"No, I promised I would stay here." He wouldn't break Tony's trust like that, it wouldn't be appreciated even if he prevented the attack. "Besides there's always the chance of collateral damage if I get involved." His reasoning sounds weak and pathetic even to him. He should have done _something._

"That's your own hang up," she accuses. His head shoots up and finds her staring back at him. Her usual neutral expression replaced by mild irritation. His eyes narrow as he tries to figure out what he's done to annoy her.

"And everyone else's," he counters carefully, barely able to prevent his frustration creeping into his voice as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Not anymore, more people see the Big Guy as a hero nowadays."

The hint of admiration in her tone is the final straw for him and he pushes off the counter and barely stops himself from brushing against her as he moves past her to the other side of his lab, wondering why she sounds like she speaks from experience, what gives her the right to. His angrier half almost killed her and she dismisses it like it was nothing because _he_ helped a group of experiments avert annihilation. She seems so nonchalant about the incident as if she experiences it daily. No one takes his word about what the other guy is capable of. They've barely seen the rage Bruce feels when he takes over.

"He's far from it," he says tightly. "It takes more than thwarting an alien invasion to make up for the damage we've done."

"You're not giving him or yourself enough credit."

"I think you're giving us too much," he barks out. Adrenaline pumps through his veins as his heart pulses hard and fast. Her expression is defiant as he struggles to even out his breathing to sync his heart beat. Once he feels it ebb, he continues, "This is the kind of conversation which ends with you asking for me _and_ _him_ to work for SHIELD _._ We do more harm than good, Natasha."

"I'm not asking for SHIELD," she argues back.

"Really? If Fury asked, you wouldn't try to change my mind?" Her silence is the only answer he needs. "It's always the same," Bruce says bitterly as he walks from the laboratory.

….

He holds up in his bedroom for hours before he starts to feel claustrophobic in the room which is bigger than anywhere he's ever lived. He realises it's night when he ventures out into the hallway, casting a cautious look before he closes the door behind him. Natasha is nowhere in sight as he makes his way to the kitchen. He rubs his tired eyes, he stared at his tablet reading any news on the search for Tony and Pepper. He's too proud to go to Natasha for information SHIELD might have which the public doesn't. He makes it halfway through the lounge, intending to go to the kitchen, when he hears her voice float through the door leading to the roof. His feet move of their own accord and he soon finds himself in the doorway watching her pace in front of the railing. Her step falters and he realises she knows he's there.

She continues her conversation regardless of his presence. "Nobody's seen Potts?"

Natasha listens intently to whoever she's phoned. She remains impassive the entire time till they finish speaking and she ends the call. She's still stiff as she leans against the railing, taking in the view of the city. Again, his feet move without permission and he takes his place beside her.

"What happened to Pepper?" He asks gruffly, steeling himself for more bad news.

"She took off with this woman who was in the house just before the attack, she refused to give any details to anyone on scene."

"Maybe she doesn't have any," Bruce offers. He's not that surprised. In the space of forty-eight hours, a close confidant was blown up, then her home was destroyed with her boyfriend still inside. If she has any information, she doesn't know who to trust it with, especially an agent she isn't familiar with.

"Well, she said she was going to a hotel. No one's heard anything since," she says heavily. She casts him a sideways glance. "SHIELD re-examined the satellite footage, a suit flew away from the scene but they lost track of him. They're going to release a statement presuming Stark dead. If he's out there, it'll give him time to figure this all out."

"So, we have to wait for ET to phone home?" Bruce says to the night. He relaxes a little, any residual anger he feels dissipates. There's not much hope but it's more than they had.

"Channelling Stark, Doc? You really must be missing him if you're trying to deflect with jokes. Guess someone has to while he's gone, I just thought it'd be me," she says with a smile

"I think he'd approve of the comparison," Bruce shoots back.

"He'd get a kick out of it. The little guy made a phone with an umbrella and a kids' toy," she jokes back. She holds his look, turning serious. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"I was. I needed some air," he says the tension returning. There's too much pollution to see the stars so he focuses on the countless lights illuminating the buildings and streets laid out before them, the sound of car horns rising from the ground below them. It's an alluring scene which he finds himself staring at whenever he has the chance.

"I did too, the city is still as beautiful at night," Natasha murmurs, her words taking him back to the last time they stood in this spot together.

"Yeah," he agrees. She looks over her shoulder as he says it, her green eyes cutting through him. Even though Bruce knows he has a right to be angry with her, he feels like he should apologise. "I'm sorry about before. I was annoyed at myself and I took it out on you."

She shakes her head. "It's fine."

"No, it's not Natasha," he tries to find the right words to explain himself. "I created a monster and there's nothing I can do anything about it. Whatever he does, whoever he hurts, it's my fault because he wouldn't exist without me."

Natasha accepts his explanation easily. "You were right to be suspicious. For the record, Fury hasn't asked but I wouldn't refuse if he did," she pauses, searching his face with that disconcerting gaze of hers. "I would also take no for an answer."

"You would?"

"You don't hold a monopoly on your anger being used as a weapon," her voice quivers slightly but she recovers quickly. "And I don't just have flashes, I remember every detail."

It's his turn to shake his head, his eyes closing briefly at the catch in her voice. "Why are you working for SHIELD if they get you to do the same thing?"

"Sometimes the situation calls for it, but there are usually other options. Besides it's what I know," she tells him with a shrug.

He's not fooled by her laid-back attitude. "Does it help?"

"No," Natasha says quickly. "But there are days when it's worth it. SHIELD was planning to use the Tesseract to build weapons to defend Earth. Instead of scaring Loki and his henchmen off, it drew their attention to us. This city and the world would've been levelled if we hadn't contained the Chitauri as quickly as we did."

He has nothing to say to that or the wider implications. An army that size would have wiped out the planet.

She waits for him to say something but he stubbornly returns his stare to the city. Natasha takes his silence as a sign to continue. "You got to make a choice about what you want to do here Bruce," she sighs. "You can't sit on the side lines and then feel guilty about it."

"I want to help," he admits surprising himself, Natasha too if the slight widening of her eyes is any indication. He can't pin point when he made that decision, maybe he made it when he stayed after the battle. He does know Tony's situation cemented it for him if not for one point, "I can't be out there with civilians. I won't take that risk."

"You can't control everything Bruce," Natasha sighs. "It's impressive you've lived with Stark for months without incident."

"He's mostly in Malibu," he cracks a tight smile, his tone is flat.

"Not anymore," she watches him closely. He hadn't thought of that. When Tony returns, not if, it'll most likely be to the Tower. Natasha doesn't let him dwell on it for long. "You always assume we want the Big Guy when you're just as important."

"Don't know about that," there's that ever-present niggle of doubt he's so accustomed with.

"It'd be nice to have someone that powerful in the field but I know you're not ready for that. It'll be just as useful to have you on the tech side too. You don't have to decide this minute, and it's not absolute if you do. You can walk away whenever you want," she promises earnestly, her natural rasp more pronounced than usual. She clears her throat quietly and looks back to the city. There's a long pause. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" Bruce asks, brow creasing. He knows what she's going to say next.

"Changing," Natasha clarifies. "You made it look effortless in the battle," she gestures in the direction of down town. "But you looked like you were in a lot of pain on the helicarrier."

It's not like people haven't asked before. Tony asks daily, only serious if Bruce decides to answer. He never answered. He doesn't feel like it now but he's compelled to talk to her. Tony is right, sort of. Bruce doesn't actively avoid Natasha; he avoids talking with her. He can't take the compassion she shows him.

"I try not to think about it," he admits. "Usually worse when I'm being attacked."

"No wonder he's pissed," she muses before her thoughtful expression morphs into a devilish little smile which worries him more than he'd care to admit. "You still owe me dinner for that."

"Um," is the first thing that comes out of his mouth as his mind goes blank, caught between mild panic and flushing. Her smirk evolves into a grin as the pink blush he can't control. At least he's not going green.

"Do you think I forgot?" Natasha's impish question doesn't help matters nor does the casual turn she makes to lean her back against the railing, watching him from a better angle.

"I didn't think you were being serious," Bruce says, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. Truth is neither of them broached the subject after the last and only time they were on this roof together. He thought she was joking and he didn't want to ask if she wasn't. It's not like they had time anyway, she was always going somewhere. He chances a glance at her face to see her looking back at him expectantly. "Um, well, we could, if you want," he stammers. "We'd have to eat in 'cause we can't go anywhere, so I'm not sure if it counts."

"You can make it up to me later Doc," there's that nickname again, uttered with her raspy, teasing tone which perplexes him all over again.

….

"Honey, we're home," Tony calls as he and Pepper walk out of the private elevator just before midday days later, on the first of January. "Thanks for keeping the home fires burning."

"You're back," Bruce says rising from his chair to greet his friends. After all they've been through he didn't expect to see them so soon. He was certain their debriefing would take hours. They're a sight; battered and bruised, Tony hobbles across the room and Bruce mentally assesses the injuries he can see. No doubt there's more under the fresh clothes Tony's wearing. Pepper on the other hand is exposing more skin than usual in a tank top and yoga pants. The bright pink hue makes her look like she just stepped out of a scalding hot shower. "They let you leave like that? How did you get home?"

"Helicopter just dropped us off," Pepper replies. "They're sending someone to continue our debriefing after good nights' sleep."

Bruce looks to Tony when he's uncharacteristically quiet and assumes the events are catching up to him. "How are you?"

"Smothered" and "Peachy," they state at the same time, causing Tony to turn to Pepper as if she'd ripped out his heart, or in his case, the reactor in the middle of his chest.

"I'm sorry," she tells him. "I love you but you've been hovering since we were picked up at the shipping yard."

Having heard the couple return, Natasha appears beside him as Tony launches into a list of reasons why, all of which seem valid to Bruce but agitate Pepper as the list goes on and on. Bruce intends to glance at Natasha to gage her reaction on whether they should leave them to it when Peppers' body starts to glow, bright orange flare spreading across the skin as her clothes start to smoulder at the edges. At least that explained the attire.

"My case and point," Tony says gesturing to the orange glow spreading across the skin, backing up carefully.

Pepper holds out her arms to look at herself and growls lightly. Her body contracts as she breathes deeply to control her feelings and her skin slowly returns to its' normal tone. "I need space, just for a little while," she assures him once she's calm. "I would suggest the same for you but you won't listen."

Tony looks like he's about to argue when Bruce clears his throat then regrets drawing their attention to him when their heads swivel in his direction. Thankfully, Natasha saves him from his momentary lapse.

"Why don't you go through the Extremis details with Banner? Two of you working on this will be quicker than one, especially since you walked out of your debriefing to specifically start fixing it," she says pointedly. "I can sit with Pepper and catch you up on what's happened with Stark Industries since you've been gone."

While Tony looks livid, Bruce isn't sure who's more relieved, him or Pepper. He decides Pepper has the edge on him, because she looks like she never expected Natasha to say anything, let alone place herself as a buffer between them.

"That sounds wonderful," Pepper says quickly regaining her composure.

"You're supposed to be resting," Tony points out.

"It's hard to do that when you're around," she tells him gently, not trying to provoke a fight. "I just need to do something normal for a few hours."

It's awkward for Bruce and Natasha as they have to wait a full ten seconds as the couple stares at each other till Tony relents and pecks Pepper on the lips before facing Bruce with a flourish. "Come along, my man," he declares in a British accent. He moves toward Bruce and they fall into step as they head for the huge lab which oversees the grand living area. "It all started in an elevator in Switzerland."

…..

" _That was weird."_

Tony stares at him for a long moment with a look he usually reserves for an experiment and Bruce feels like he's almost being dissected with his eyes. He sinks lower in his seat to shield himself from his gaze but Tony follows his movement, his brow furrowing as he turns his body on the couch, rolling to the edge and propping himself on his elbow so he is reclining rather than fully stretched out, to get a better view of Bruce.

"Why are you wearing a jacket?"

"Huh…" Bruce looks down at his clothes in surprise, he straightens the jacket and tries to avoid eye contact.

"It's a little wrinkled but you're looking more dapper than I've ever seen you Bruce," Tony gestures at him with a dramatic flourish.

"I've been sitting in this chair for a couple of hours," Bruce defends as he shuffles to right his posture.

"You've had a haircut, you've got some designer stubble going on," Tony continues regardless of Bruce's excuses. He lowers his voice, "I should be offended that this asserted effort isn't for my benefit but now you're holding out on me too?" Tony questions after a moment, more amused than insulted.

"I have plans," Bruce reluctantly admits.

"With who?"

"Um…"

"Are you two done yet?"

Their heads twist to look at the woman looking around the door at them. Considering his injuries Tony springs to his feet with surprising agility and enthusiasm while Bruce pushes off the chair with significantly less fanfare, straightening his clothes self-consciously.

"My name is Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you," Tony jovially claims pointing at Natasha. She cocks an eyebrow, fixing him with a stare till he relents. "Maybe a little," Tony says holding up his thumb and index finger to illustrate his point. Her head inclines to the side and he lifts both hands, about thirty centimetres apart. "This much?" He questions. Silence. His hands widen. "More?"

Bruce can't help smiling at her look of indifference to his friends' antics. This could take a while. He's more than happy to watch but it seems Natasha isn't in the mood for Tony's games as she steps into the room, folding her arms over her chest as she says the words which are Tony's Achilles heel, "Pepper is resting and she wants you to join her."

"Milady awaits," the billionaire leads the way out to the hall, calling over his shoulder. "Thanks for babysitting Red."

"Anytime Shellhead," she deadpans with a rolling her eyes at Bruce. Once Tony is out of ear shot, she casts him an apologetic look which almost seems disappointed.

"We're not going to dinner, are we?" There's a pang in his chest as he says it. He doesn't want to acknowledge it let alone figure out why he's feeling it. Her next words save him from being completely disheartened.

"Rain check?" She replies immediately and he hopes he doesn't look too eager when he nods his head. "I gotta head to DC, Cap's not playing nice with others."

"Classified?" Bruce questions.

"Isn't it always?" She jokes, her eyes softening a tad. "Next time?"

 **Next time?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note – Thanks to Black Victor Cachat. Thank you all for the support and following the story and those who left reviews :D. I'm switching to Natasha's perspective for this chapter and would love to know what you think. Spoilers for** _ **CA:WS,**_ **this is set directly after that. Hope you enjoy.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter three

" _Truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time. Neither am I," Natasha explains simply while they sit in Wilson's apartment._

" _That's a tough way to live," Steve counters._

" _It's a good way not to die, though," she points out._

" _You know it's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is."_

" _Yeah. Who do you want me to be?"_

Her eyes might be closed but she can still feel his eyes on her, has felt them on her since she arrived more than two hours ago. She hasn't said anything to anyone since she walked out of the elevator unceremoniously and headed straight for her room before anyone could say anything to her. The luxurious room became too stifling after hours of seclusion and she snuck out onto the roof for some air.

She isn't harbouring any illusion that the three of her teammates who are in the Tower are unaware of her location, they're all currently at the bar in the grand living room drinking quietly in full view of the roof top. Casually dressed in jeans and a hoodie, she ditched the business suit as soon as she locked the bedroom door behind her, she leans back in the new patio chair which had been put there since her last visit. She wonders who she has to thank for the furniture, a small glass table and another chair to complete the set; Tony rarely ventures out here but it's one of Bruce's favourite spots in the Tower. She doubts Bruce asked for the furniture or arranged for it himself; the billionaire probably did it without asking if he wanted it there because Bruce wouldn't ask for something which would add comfort to his pastime. Natasha figured out that was part of the appeal a long time ago.

With her hood pulled up to partially obscure her from any low flying helicopter passing by for whoever wants a picture of her, she doesn't care if she is a pathetic sight, sitting alone on the roof desperately trying to block the world out. She resolutely keeps her eyes shut and concentrates on the sounds beyond the air traffic. Car horns float up from the streets, competing with angry chants from protestors who stand side by side with journalists who were eager for a glimpse at the human weapon who just revealed herself to the world. This may be Stark's building and he wasn't directly involved in the shit storm that went down in DC, but the Tower is seen as the Avengers' base of operations. A lot of people died and the public is understandably angry and they need someone to blame, so the Tower is bearing the brunt.

Light footsteps filter through the din, pausing just inside the sliding glass doors as if he's weighing up whether he should approach her or not. Natasha recognises the indecisive foot work and cocks an eyebrow without opening her eyes. Out of the three other residents he was the last she expected to approach her. Steve was most likely, but he's been giving her a wide berth since the 'funeral'. Though usually tactless Stark has, on the rare occasion, been known to say the right thing, but the billionaire has been unusually quiet about the whole situation, offering only an open, unlimited invitation when she and Steve turned up on his doorstep. Bruce is completely different, she barely saw him. Bruce split his time between the lab and his own room, not uncommon for him but after their last conversation she didn't expect him to avoid her. Not that she was going out of her way to be social; when she wasn't preparing for committee meetings, she was in her room.

His appearance is a quandary to her, she usually found him, not the other way around. She had been planning to seek him out sooner or later, he just beat her to it this time. With no idea of how to phrase the awkward apologies to her team mates for spilling their secrets without their permission she had been biding her time and pride before she spoke with any of them. She had no such qualms with the Bureaucrats grilling her earlier this afternoon, she owes them nothing and she doesn't care what they think about her. A week ago, she would've said the same for the other Avengers save for Clint.

"What's up Doc?" She says without opening her eyes.

"Well, I was going to say, 'We gotta stop meeting like this'," his words might be in jest but his tone is heavy. "But I kind of enjoy our meetings."

Natasha smiles. She does too. This is no exception. His appearance and dark sense of humour are a relief she never expected. After everything that's happened, after Fury's dismissive and unapologetic explanation for keeping her in the dark over his faked death and Steve's initial lack of trust, she wants to earn their acceptance. Even Starks'. She wants to prove the former director wrong. His words stung because they were the truth. His justification was a reality check; she isn't as close to him as she thought. They were too similar, though Fury would be at the top of her list of those to turn to in a crisis, right after Clint. She hates to admit he still is. If she doesn't change, she's on a path to become him and she doesn't want his jaded lonely life. She doesn't want to be closed off with no one to trust. Her choice was simple but the real challenge is to change people's perception of her. She figures her first step toward building her new life was to be honest with those around her.

Natasha's eyes open when a plate clinks as it's put down on the glass table top and she sees a simple sandwich in front of her. Her gaze flicks upward to meet Bruce's eyes and then he places a cup of tea beside the plate. She outwardly schools her features despite the unusual sensation in her throat as it constricts slightly, touched by the gesture. She doesn't deserve the kindness he's directing at her. Desperate for something to break the tension she leans forward to examine the sandwich filling. "Peanut butter and jelly?" She questions lifting the corner with her thumb.

Bruce chuckles self-consciously, sputters a little before nodding. "I couldn't find any other junk food in the kitchen." He waits for her reaction, growing nervous when she doesn't respond. "I know you don't eat junk food but I was going for comfort over necessity." He pauses and second guesses himself. "I should've made something else," he sighs.

"No, no, it's fine," she tells him quickly. His reasoning, sweet and dorkily delivered, endears her to the idea of comfort eating. She would prefer something more substantial but she appreciates his effort. However, she double checks the sandwich again giving away her uncertainty.

"You've never had one," Bruce deduces quickly.

Natasha shakes her head smiling in spite of herself, she doesn't want him to misconstrue her cautious appraisal of the sandwich as a rejection. The sandwich is Lila's favourite, but Natasha never felt compelled to try the sugary treat. Pushing away thoughts of the little girl who idolises 'Aunty Nat,' and any doubts, she lifts one half to take a bite. Fully aware he was watching for any sign of disapproval, Natasha chews appreciatively. "It's alright," she says. Natasha nods at the other chair and pushes the plate to the middle of the table. "Join me?"

He accepts her offer and picks up the other half of the sandwich, appeased she's at least eating something. Her appetite has been lacking since this mess started. They eat in silence for a few minutes, alternating in taking in the view as it morphs slowly from early evening to night and furtive glances at each other. The temperature drops as the wind starts to pick up and Natasha tucks the unruly wisps of hair behind her ear as they fly about. She finishes her half of the sandwich, watches as Bruce chews his thoughtfully as he squints at something in the distance behind her. She doesn't want to know what he's seen on the horizon, he'll tell her if she needs to know. He's almost finished and she wracks her brain for something to prevent the inevitable conversation.

"Don't think this lets you off the hook for dinner," she says looking up at him from under her lashes, her eyes alight with mirth. Mid chew, he chokes out a laugh as he meets her gaze. Her mouth curls upward at the edges as she lifts the cup to her lips and takes a long sip and savours the taste for a moment while maintaining eye contact with Bruce, recovered from his splutter, as she swallows, extremely pleased when he holds her stare. The liquid flows over her tongue and down her thoat. It's different from his normal blend, floral with a hint of lemon washes away the sickly-sweet remnants of the sandwich.

"You really want to try to sneak past that lot undetected?" Bruce retorts without missing a beat as he jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the fans, journalists, and protestors camped out in front of the building.

"You've lived here long enough, I'm sure you've figured out a few ways if necessary," her answer rolls of her tongue as she watches him closely. He swallows the last bite of his half before nodding, bashfully proud of himself.

"There's a few," he says confirms. "You might need to adjust the security measures you introduced to the services entrance."

She barely flickers at his answer. The last time Natasha was in the Tower she was tasked with tightening said security gaps. She isn't too surprised Bruce managed to figure out a way around her solutions; he spent far too long on the run, it was second nature to him to have an escape plan.

They're quiet again and she sips the now cool tea he brought her while wondering about his thoughtfulness. She takes a moment to assess him as he relaxes into his chair. She's envious of the calm aura he exudes while he looks at the sun dipping below the skyline. She knows his mind is working through the recent revelations. She's never had the opportunity to watch him this close before, at least not when he's sitting still because he's usually studiously looking over data in the lab. The scenario is nothing new to her, she watched him from a distance countless times when he was on the run from the military. Not always in person, sometimes it was just reading a fellow agent's report or reviewing surveillance. Nevertheless, she was drawn in by his ability to blend into a crowd and disappear. For someone who lacked formal training, he is good. She isn't surprised, he is a quick learner, and his self-control is fascinating, a lot better than he believes. Fury saw Bruce as an asset to protect rather than hunt, but more than once Natasha wondered what it would have been like if SHIELD had actively pursued him like the military had, whether she would have enjoyed watching him as much. She'll never know now, but it's a habit which she continued after they met face to face, cornering him to engage in small talk whenever she visited the Tower.

Talking to Bruce piques her interest. It's not all work like Steve, it's not all sarcasm and hyperbole like Stark; though she secretly enjoys riling the billionaire as much as he does her. She likes them but they're predictable, and it's easy for her to read them. Bruce can talk about most things and match her word for word without letting her distract him.

" _You didn't come here because I batted my eyelashes at you."_

" _And I'm not leaving now because you get a little twitchy."_

Whether he meant to or not, he issued her with a challenge of sorts when he said that to her on the helicarrier. Not that she's trying to manipulate him, she really isn't, but _he_ is a challenge to _her._ He's unlike anyone she's ever met and that fascinates her. He's someone who understands her extraordinary life, abhors it yet he's resigned to his place in it. She met countless agents who put the job first, yet all he thinks about are the consequences of their actions.

Simply, she enjoys his company, quirks and all.

While Bruce is never completely comfortable with his own existence, she finds his presence calming. She doesn't bother to ponder why or the possible ramifications, but if she had to pinpoint it for her own peace of mind, it is probably because she understands his rage better than even he can fathom. That's the best explanation she can come up without delving deeper into her reasons for continually seeking him out and pushing him for a dinner he never would have the nerve to ask for. She surprised herself when she suggested it but he seemed so out of sorts with his spur of the moment but earnest apology he greeted her with in the middle of the battle torn street in Manhattan. It's not awkward like she assumed it could be, like others presume it is. As much as she wants to sit here with him for the rest of the night, have the dinner they've been planning since the first time they stood on this roof together she has got to get one thing clear first. "You're not going to ask if I'm okay, are you?"

She knew the question has been on the tip of Steve's tongue when she walked off the elevator earlier today, it was the other reason she spent most of her time in her room. Bruce appraises her for a long minute before answering.

"Why would I when it's obvious you're not?" He questions rhetorically. "No one would be if they were going through what you are now Natasha," he tacks on. The gentle timbre of his voice is meant to soothe her but irks her instead.

"Am I that easy to read?" Natasha scoffs, rolling her eyes to cover her flinch at his honesty.

"No, you're not," he appeases gently with a shake of his head, but she can see the hint of amusement in his eyes at her tense reply. "But it's a pretty big sign when you don't greet Tony with some sort of insult or death threat. He's offended," Bruce adds.

"My day's complete," Natasha deadpans, unable to stop the smile that forms. The man might infuriate her but she does enjoy their verbal sparring. "Guess I'll have to come up with a real zinger to make it up to him."

"He'll appreciate it."

"Did you volunteer to talk to me? Or did you guys draw straws to see who got the privilege?" She asks, not sure which answer she's hoping for. Except for Clint, no one tries to talk to her when she's feeling like this. That's fine with her, she'll avoid any conversation which attempts to delve into her psyche, and she's not above playing on her kill first ask questions later reputation to do so. Except she can't do that with Bruce.

"There wasn't really a consensus. Steve thinks you need some space, and Tony's says he doesn't want anything to pull you off the 'super-spy-slash-master-assassin' pedestal he's put you on."

Her eyes roll. "And you?"

"There are times when you shouldn't be alone," he elaborates.

"Says the man who at one time was determined to put as much space between him and civilisation as possible." Bruce accepts the words and the derisive tone. She sighs. It's a low blow. He isn't being intrusive or pushing her to talk like any of the other men in her life would if they were sitting where he is now. She softens her expression and her voice contrite as she adds, "Sounds really tempting right now. Got any tips?"

"None you don't already know, given the fact you were the one who found me." He pauses, and Natasha can see his mind work, mulling over something she knows she isn't going to like. But he's always honest with her, and in the end that wins out over holding his tongue. "I'm not asking you to talk Natasha, I'm saying that I'm here. But I know running will only undo what you've already done to prove you're not with HYDRA."

"My reputation is already shot to hell, what's another thing to add to the list?" She shrugs.

"There's no such thing as a fresh start when you're running from your life rather than for it," he interjects. "Isn't it safer to be with people who care about what happens to you?"

"Depends on how you look at it," Natasha says with a soft rasp, trying to mask the catch in her throat. She is far more comfortable with a life on the run, but she would never feel safe enough to see the family who treat her like one of their own. Emotional anchors are dangerous things; Clint's family is already a weight on her mind and the other Avengers are close to being another. She's not sure if she can carry them all. She juts her chin toward the living room beyond the roof access. "Not sure if they agree with you though."

"You wouldn't be here if they didn't."

Bruce doesn't say anything else, but she knows he doesn't expect her to answer straight away. He openly watches her, and for the first time in days she isn't uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny. She stares back at him, trying to draw strength from his quiet acceptance. He's patience rivals her own as he waits her out. Natasha smothers her twitching lips. He's quite adept to playing this game, and while she would rather engage him with a short battle of wits, she has other things on her mind.

"I worked side by side with them for years and I never saw who they really were," Natasha admits with another pang to her already bruised ego. The bruises, the scrapes, the bullet wound to her shoulder don't bother her half as much as her failings to read those around her. She was supposed to be the best at reading people and situations, it set her apart from everyone else. She may never have trusted the HYDRA spies like she did Clint, Fury or Hill but she should have been able to recognise them for what they were. The situation with Fury was something else, more personal, something she refuses to acknowledge right now.

"It wasn't just you. They blindsided everyone, it was their plan Natasha."

"Do you think I did the right thing?" She asks. When his brow contracts, she adds, "Releasing my files?"

"Without your files, all people would have known was a list of names and not the circumstances. You gave them a context. HYDRA can't blackmail you into complying with them."

"No, but they could still doctor them and coerce the public to push for my arrest." She lets him ponder that for a minute. The angry chants seem to grow louder, as if agreeing with her. Bruce knows they can if they want. When he doesn't reply, Natasha poses another question for him. "Can you imagine what they would have done with Earth's mightiest heroes?"

Falsifying records to justify a mission is one thing, but they could've easily used SHIELD's connection to the Avengers to manipulate them. Not just to do their bidding, access to Bruce research on the Hulk and Stark's work with the suits could be devastating if they were ever to mount a counter attack.

"Imagine what they would have done with Project: Insight," Bruce counters. "The ramifications are devastating given how close they came to succeeding."

"They programmed your DNA into it," Natasha recalls the conversation with Pierce. At the time, she remembers sharing a harried glance with Steve at the reference to the doctor but they needed to concentrate on what the Secretary to the World Security Council was telling them instead of dwelling on the throwaway mention which was probably to throw them off track. If Bruce is phased by the information, he doesn't show it. "They didn't elaborate as to how they were going target you."

"Would they have to?" Comes Bruce's low response.

"They must've known they couldn't kill you, but what was their intention?" She asks.

"To trigger a transformation," Bruce offers. "Keep retriggering him every time I changed back."

"Are you able to survive repeated and prolonged transformations?" Natasha wonders. She's seen the toll a transformation takes on him especially under those conditions, surely that would have an impact on Bruce and the Hulk.

"I never want to find out," Bruce says wearily, and she accepts that as a sign he doesn't want to discuss that. She knows he's thinking of the potential carnage and how HYDRA would use that to turn the world against him and the Hulk again. He lifts one hand and runs a finger under the rim of his glasses to rub his eye carefully. "There are still HYDRA cells out there, scattered, vulnerable and in need of direction. We don't know what fail safe measures they had in place if this ever happened," Bruce pauses.

HYDRA played the long game, they would have countless back up plans. They're more dangerous now they've gone to ground and some fringe cell could lash out in one last ditch effort if they think all is lost. "They need to be stopped before they can regroup," Bruce adds.

"I'm not sure what I can offer." Natasha hates the weird limbo she's caught in, unable to ascertain what she can and wants to do.

"Tony, Steve and I were going through the files JARVIS found but they're still searching for more. We could use another set of eyes, someone who is used to going through SHIELD files," he says pointedly. When she remains silent he frowns at her, "You've never doubted yourself before."

Her lips twitch at his concern. If she were him, she'd worry about her state of mind too.

He's right though. Her confidence rarely waivers when it comes to the job. The adrenaline, the excitement, the risk; they're addictive. But she's worn out. She's been lied to and lied to others her entire life. Joining SHIELD was her turning point, her chance to change but she traded one set of lies for another and she didn't know who she was lying for. Those lies have taken their toll. Lines are blurring and it's hard to tell who's doing the right thing for the right reasons and, if he asked her right now, she doesn't trust her judgement to make that call.

"I'm not sure where I fit into the team," Natasha admits. If she is honest, she feels lost. Years ago, this wouldn't have fazed her. She would've walked away without a second thought.

"Why can't you finish what Fury started?" Bruce's question cuts through her thoughts.

She huffs out a snicker, shaking her head at the absurd idea. If only Bruce knew Fury was alive, he'd be pissed as well. "I was to assess, recruit and assist."

"Who else would he have trusted with that?"

She has no answer for him, for all she knows Fury had no other choice. Trust is a dangerous word, not one to be thrown around without forethought, or without fear of repercussions. It's a loaded and foreign concept neither have much experience with. People try to manipulate him at every turn, and she's a master manipulator.

"You can read my files if you like, give you an idea of who I really am," Natasha offers. Fury knew her better than she knew herself which why his little game of self-discovery hurt more.

"I don't need to read them to know who you are Natasha."

And that is the crux of the matter. Fury expects someone without scruples, Steve expects a fellow soldier, Stark expects a deadly seductress, Clint expects someone trying to right their wrongs. She adapts to fit their expectations. Bruce doesn't have any, except he only accepts the truth. Only she doesn't know what that is.


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been a while but I haven't forgotten this story. A huge thank you to** **Black' Victor Cachat** **for their continued support. If you're not already reading their stories, check them out.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter four

It takes them almost two weeks after Steve and Natasha arrive to compile an inventory for missing SHIELD equipment and weapons they believe HYDRA pilfered in the ensuing chaos when SHIELD fell. The sheer amount of information they managed to retrieve was astounding especially considering it barely scratched the surface. Soon after starting to sort through their bounty it became apparent some of the undercover HYDRA agents tried to purge SHIELD's system, so they went through what they had as well as Tony's initial hack when they were aboard when they first met. After exhausting that information, they relied on Steve and Natasha's first-hand knowledge.

Maria Hill joined them shortly after, seeking refuge under the guise of a new Stark employee like the rest of them behind the protection of Tony's army of lawyers. She was a good addition, she was able to access documents hidden in SHIELD's archives as her security clearance was higher than Natasha's and Steve's. That was a point of underlying tension but one no one broached the subject; Tony had been, till now at least, unusually restrained when it came to overlooking the edgy atmosphere. Including this morning when they were roused by an early alert from JARVIS to say Hill wanted to see them all in the briefing room.

Bruce taps his pen lightly on the table top as he waits for the meeting to start. His eyes dart around the room as he waits for Hill to start the meeting. Stark's moonlighting head of HR was currently out in the hall talking into her phone. Her back is to the glass partition preventing any of them from reading her lips or eavesdrop on her conversation. Apparently, something else happened in the middle of the night and Fury's former second in command deemed it necessary to call them together to give them the news instead of the letting them hear from someone else. He's as curious as the rest of the team but he's in no rush to receive more bad news.

He had no idea what to expect but assumed it would be a lot like the military briefings he attended before his accident, albeit in a more affluent setting. Tony stands to one side of the room with his attention on his see-through interface, ready to take the chair next to him when it starts. Natasha slides into the chair on the other side of him, meeting his eyes with a neutral expression as she settles opposite Barton who takes the chair next to Thor. She doesn't hold his eyes for long as she notices the documents in front of her space and reaches for it. It's also to avoid any unnecessary conversation. She doesn't usually shy away from the team, she has no issue teasing each and every one of them much to their embarrassment, but he's aware the briefing reminds her of SHIELD and it's still at the forefront of her mind, still quite fresh for her and she tends to be quieter when it's bought up in conversation.

Bruce tries not to stare as it'll bring more unwanted attention. He can't help another glance as Barton draws his focus from the other side of the table. Stepping in for his partner, Bruce realises instantly as he sees the grey gaze staring back at him, "How've you been Banner?"

They are the only words the archer ever says to him. Barton has only been back to the Tower twice since the battle, he took an extended break from SHIELD after what Loki did to him. Bruce couldn't blame him, though he doubts it was all to do with Thor's brother. They were all satisfied with how he was dealt with. In fact, Bruce suspects it was probably cover for a covert mission. No one really knows where, and Tony keeps trying to goad to him into placing a wager. From his own observations during the debriefings days after the battle, the former SHIELD agent adapted quickly or at least he appeared to.

"Good, considering," Bruce replies with a shrug. Barton accepts his answer with an understanding nod and a quick lift of his eye brows, much like Natasha's but without the sarcasm behind it. "How about you?"

"Considering retirement," Barton replies and it's hard to tell if he's joking because Natasha doesn't balk at the idea let alone react, not even a look in the archers' direction. "But duty calls."

Bruce accepts his answer with a thoughtful nod and like that the conversation is over as Barton turns his attention to Thor, who, to Bruce, looks out of place in a dark blue hoodie, white tee and jeans. A few minutes pass and as Hill steps in he feels Natasha's eyes on him but when he furtively checks, her position hasn't changed. He knows it's not his imagination, she's as sharp as usual.

Behind them Tony puts his interface away and clear his throat. "You all know her but I'd like to introduce the newest member of the HR team, AKA the person who will be dealing with every problem my employees have, Maria." She scowls at him but he rambles on regardless. "Feel free to email any problems _you_ have with _me_ to yourself," Tony tacks on as he steps aside for Hill to take his place at the head of the table.

"Or Pepper," Natasha provides helpfully provides. Tony pauses his descent into the chair, his face resembling something akin to panic as he looks to Hill to confirm with a quick bob of his head before dropping into his seat.

"HYDRA raided the Fridge last night," Hill declares without preamble or indulging Tony and Natasha's attempt at levity.

As she takes in the raised eyebrows and exasperated gasps echoing around the room, Bruce notes the irritation they all feel is reflected in her expression. From his limited knowledge of their facilities, the Fridge was a stronghold in the security. It's the one of the few places they were confident that _could_ withstand an attack. HYDRA isn't as ineffective as they presumed, organising subsequent attacks before what remained of SHIELD could get reinforcements to assist with securing what was left of their bases.

If the tension he feels reeling off Natasha is any indication of the seriousness of the situation, Bruce begins to really worry as she stiffens next to him and he frowns at the sudden squaring of her shoulders; this news is difficult for her to hear. Soon after arriving she admitted she hates feeling useless and unable to help the agents who were striving to protect the facilities HYDRA hasn't raided. At one-point Bruce thought she might leave to join them but she hasn't yet. She's been antsy, not really sure what she wants to do. While the military had secured known facilities, remaining members of SHIELD were more paranoid than ever, unsure who was who even among their own ranks and were unwilling outsource the safety of their remaining resources. Not that Bruce blames them, he knows exactly what military involvement is like.

"What did they take?" Steve asks.

The question has become standard over the last few weeks and Bruce knows the answer will be more devastating than the others; if the Fridge had the strictest security protocols, then it must have housed the worst of the worst.

"They freed prisoners we deemed highly dangerous-."

"Who deemed them dangerous and why?" Bruce cuts in with a frown.

"The World Security Council because of what they were capable of, majority of them have meta abilities or were interested in using those who have," Hill answers smoothly. "Also weapons we were studying, including the Peruvian 0-8-4 and the Berserker staff," Maria Hill said. "I'm being called in front of Congress to explain because we said they were destroyed."

Bruce rolls his eyes at the last bit, a sentiment he knows is shared amongst those seated at the table. As a scientist, he understands the appeal of studying new technology but these aren't average run of the mill weapons these dangerous enough to lie about and that's never a good thing. Either side of him, Natasha and Tony seem unsurprised, same with Barton. Steve's muscles flex under his shirt as he shakes his slightly. _What's another cover up to add to the list which is steadily growing?_

Then Bruce turns his attention to the man opposite him. Thor's head had tilted toward the brunette at the mention of the last weapon which Bruce never heard of before. "Asgard allowed the staff to remain here with assurances as a sign of good faith," the God pointed out, his features hardening. "What of the sceptre Loki used?"

 _Uh oh._

SHIELD's former deputy director straightens under their scrutiny. "It went missing from another facility; intel suggests one of the scientists working on it was recruited by HYDRA when we refused him a field position." She finishes the sentence with a slight grimace befalling her usually schooled features.

"If you didn't deem him worthy, why was he allowed near the sceptre?" Comes Thor's low response, his deep baritone echoing through the room.

"Because he was a good scientist," Hill defends refusing to wilt under the veiled warning.

Asgardians were generous enough to allow them to keep hold of the weapons as it went a long way to establishing an allegiance between the two worlds but none of them know Thor well enough to predict how he will react to the news. The repercussions could be devastating if the Asgardians took offence of losing their weapons. Whether or not they had permission to study the sceptre was another matter entirely. Bruce held his breath as he waited.

"Having such power contained often tempts our enemies to take it from us," the God says with more understanding than the others expect. At their astounded expressions he shrugs, "Many have tried to penetrate my father's vault to liberate weapons to use against us in battle." He refocuses on Hill. "I shall help you retrieve them and return to them to Asgard. Though if anyone from Midgard wishes to study our weapons in the future I must insist they are supervised by Banner or Stark, as I deem them worthy to fight beside."

Bruce is strangely honoured by the compliment and the prospect of studying alien technology. He knows the same thoughts are running through Tony's mind as he perks up at the mention of his name.

Before either of them could respond to Thor, Hill brings them back to the topic at hand. "We've discovered a network of cells but can't pinpoint them all. We're monitoring militant groups and a few questionable governments for descriptions of the weapons. We think HYDRA will try to sell the specs. It's a quick way to make money and we don't know how the arrests have affected their funding."

Steve lifts his head. "And SHIELD?"

"Depleted," the commander admits. "We don't have the same ground support we used to. Not only because of defections, but with international government investigations still ongoing, we have to operate under public radar."

Bruce isn't the only one who picks up on the tiny inflection in her voice as he realises what's coming next. Around the room they all sit up a fraction, their eyes never leaving the soldier as they wait for her to ask for their help.

"With the weapons they've stolen this could escalate into a global incident quickly. SHIELD can't do anything publicly but someone has to be the face of this."

"You mean us," Tony cuts in before she can explain it in any other way.

"You're not obligated in any way," Hill doesn't deny or look ashamed for asking. "But you have to distance yourself from SHIELD."

"Why?" Steve frowns.

"We're still fighting HYDRA from the inside so the Avengers can't be tainted with further association to SHIELD. Till we find them all, I will be your only liaison. You're not needed right away, but we need to know if you'll be ready when you are."

"You want us on standby?" Steve frowns at the implication of waiting to join the fight against HYDRA. "What do you expect us to do till then?"

Bruce feels bad for the soldier. Most of the people in the room have lives outside of the job. Tony has a company to run, Thor splits his time between Jane and Asgard, Natasha seems content with taking some time out for now, though Bruce doubts that will last long, and Barton disappears… somewhere. Bruce, himself, as well as working in Research and Development for Tony, is now able to return to some of the research he abandoned after his accident after moving into the Tower.

They have stuff to keep them busy.

Steve's life is centred around the good fight, working with SHIELD is one of the few things which helped him ease back into the new world after decades on ice. Without it Steve has been like a lost little boy and he won't do well with being benched. Especially if it hinders his search for his missing childhood friend; Bruce found it hard to wrap his mind around that one even after Steve explained Bucky's situation. Instead of voicing his concern over the possible and likely outcome of that particular endeavour, Bruce wished Steve luck as he wouldn't have listened to Bruce's warnings. He is too blinkered by the idea of saving Bucky, that he doesn't accept it'll be twice as hard for his friend to adjust than it was for him, even if they find a way to break his programming.

"To go on with your lives," Hill shrugs in a way which to everyone else would seem a little half-hearted and lacks compassion. Bruce knows she understands Steve's plight but she has no other suggestion to offer because she's still part of the fight. At Steve's frown, Hill promises, "It's precautionary and won't last long. We can't afford to make any mistakes with everything that's happening. If Congress gets an inkling of us working together, we're likely to be thrown into a deep dark hole. We need a reason to be speaking to each other, hence the cover of working for Stark."

"Cover?!" Tony's indignant question breaks the thick air in the room and brings a smirk to Bruce's face and he shares a conspiratorial glance with Natasha, her eyes lighting up at Hill's eye roll response. Even Barton pushes out a humorous huff from across the table. "I do expect actual HR work," he informs her and the commander cocks her head to the side at the billionaire. "Just ask Red, she had to 'assist' when she infiltrated my company to be a lousy assistant."

"Correction, I was a great assistant Stark and you were lucky to have me," Natasha interjects. "The worst thing about that assignment was that I couldn't kill you at the end of it."

"Yeah, and _that's_ why I haven't offered you another job," Tony retorts without missing a beat.

That makes Barton crack and the archer smoothly smothers his smirk with his hand. Aside from Hill Steve is the only one of the Avengers unamused by Tony's jokes. "If we're going to work together, I would like to set down some ground rules," Steve says to the group while looking at Tony. "To curb inappropriate behaviour."

"Why are you looking at me when you say 'inappropriate'?" Tony says then gestures past Bruce at Natasha. Bruce follows the arm and sees her tilt her head with an eyebrow regally arched, perfectly juxtaposed between interested and daring Tony to finish his joke. "She's the one trying to hook you up with every available girl who swoons over you."

"'Hook you up'? I have never heard this expression before," Thor addresses Steve. "Lady Natasha is attempting to suspend you with a woman at a great height from a hook?"

Bruce pats Tony's back when he nearly chokes on the sip of water he just drank while Natasha welcomes Thor's assumption with a wink and a downright dangerous smile. "Sounds like the kind of date I'd set him up on," she admits.

"Stop encouraging her," Steve groans shaking his head at the red head.

Barton takes pity on Thor's misunderstanding and leans over to whisper an explanation. Understanding dawns on Thor's face as he looks at Steve again. "I am sorry Captain but I find your dilemma highly entertaining. If you're having trouble finding a mate I'm sure Jane has a few friends I could introduce you to. I've only met Darcy so far but I'm sure she'll be amenable to the idea as she's previously complimented your physique."

The offer is made so seriously it's hard to tell if he's joking or not but that doesn't appear to matter as the blush spreads across Steve's face as he groans and looks beyond Thor in an attempt to engender Barton's support but the archer shakes his head. "Sorry Cap, you're on your own with this one."

Then Steve looks over at Bruce but he can only shrug, they would be out voted even if Bruce didn't find it funny.

"To sum up, all rules against Romanoff, or anyone else," Tony adds when Thor coughs lightly. "Playing Cupid are vetoed," Tony clarifies having regained composure.

"I'm just asking for some professionalism," Steve insists. "Our disagreements can get out of hand quickly and some guidelines will help with swift resolution. I think we'd all appreciate a way to do that without fighting each other."

"You expect all of us to play by the same rules so we don't kill each other?" Tony challenges.

"Yes," Steve answers.

"Veto," Natasha says into Bruce's ear but loud enough for everyone else to hear.

* * *

Natasha's veto was vetoed.

Bruce stands alone on the roof hours later after they hashed out the 'legionnaire' for them all to abide. It took a lot of arguing, mostly between Steve and Tony over semantics because the latter wanted to test the other mans' patience. The meeting ended when Hill stepped in to play referee when the rest of them refused to, content to watch the two argue.

There was a general agreement they were all willing to help when needed without anyone really voicing it. Bruce remained quiet, preferring to let Tony and Steve take the groups' focus, while he processed what they were asking of him and the Other guy, and whether or not if he is ready for it. This isn't the same battle which happened months ago where he stands now. They won't be fighting massive aliens equipped with weapons no one had seen before; they will be fighting humans no matter what their beliefs or intentions are.

"You don't agree with Hill, do you?" Natasha says as she appears at his side. He only notices the cups in her hands when she holds one out to him. "I made you tea."

"Thanks," he replies looking his cup and then her coffee; he knows she isn't fond of his blend but she has taken to joining him for the occasional cup of an evening when they sit out here long after the sun goes down. "My problem is that I do agree with her." That's the hardest part for him to accept, he understands the principle. HYDRA need to be stopped, and while SHIELD needs help, this solution seems like overkill to him. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye before sighing. "I don't like being at the beck and call of an agency who decides who to kill."

"The government is cutting all ties and trying to save their own ass in this mess. They'll back the Avengers because the public love us." At his questioning look she amends, "Most of the public love us. We're a solution."

"We should have a say in this rather than follow instructions from someone we never meet. What happens if they hold back vital information?"

"Going in blind is always a risk but there are ways around that. Between JARVIS, Stark, you, and me, we can access all the information we need." She stops and he senses the change in her demeanour. "I know this feels like you'll be giving up on everything you've tried to prevent, just think about the alternative," Natasha supplies, summing up his feelings perfectly.

He's given up pondering how she manages to put words to his thoughts so succinctly. Instead he wonders, "What gave me away?"

"You were too quiet," she says softly turning her head. He's about to argue that he's always quiet but her mouth quirks indulgently in a way which silences any argument he has. "More than usual. You never let a difficult topic stop you from voicing your opinion. None of us missed you hiding behind Steve and Stark bickering."

"Does my silence automatically draft me into this war?" He asks testily.

"No but that doesn't stop you from thinking about it," Natasha replies calmly. "You just don't want to admit you were thinking about before she asked."

"Still deciding what I can offer," Bruce admits.

"I know it's been on your mind and now you have an undetermined looming deadline, you're panicking." He just nods; the way she can read him has always been slightly disconcerting. "You don't need to Bruce. What else is bothering you?"

"I'm still not comfortable being around civilians and there is no way to guarantee we won't be."

"You'll be there to help them."

"Do good intentions trump the loss of innocent life?" Bruce muses thoughtfully and her eyes dim a touch. "It's not just my involvement Natasha," he tells her. "It's who's directing our involvement. Do we get to read their files? Do we have a say in that?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, full accountability is going to be on our shoulders. The government will deny all knowledge as soon as we mess up. Hill is trying to put positive spin on this, give people hope," even Natasha doesn't seem to be buying it. "The Avengers give people hope."

"We're a marketing tool," Bruce argues unhappy with the prospect of being a scape goat. "If we manage to track HYDRA down and stop them SHIELD will re-emerge for public recognition."

"We need all the help we can get Bruce, but rebuilding takes time especially when they don't know who is loyal," Natasha says a little defensively and he feels bad for insulting her former colleagues who were dedicated enough to stay while the organisation was abandoned and blacklisted by the government. "You've seen the files we have, there isn't much intel left to scrape together. It could take months before we have enough information to make a move, and that doesn't necessarily mean fight, it's always the last resort. And that doesn't mean that we'll need you to fight if we have to," she trails off; sounding less sure than she was the first time she said it.

He looks at her in silent askance. Her mouth slants begrudgingly. "We don't have the same back up or fire power we had before. They know us Bruce and how we operate, our strengths and weaknesses. Why do you think they went after those prisoners and weapons?" It's rhetorical. "To take us down. They know tanks and weapon bunkers are too easy for the Big Guy to wipe out. We need everyone to work together because the sooner we can contain a fight the better."

"But there's no way to contain the Other Guy _,"_ Bruce reminds her, remembering all those who tried and failed in the past.

"What if he was the one containing?" She argues. "And before you mention there's no way to control the Big Guy, we don't have to. He listened to Steve and worked with Thor when we took on the Chitauri. Well, up until he knocked Thor on his ass his coordination was pretty good. So was yours," she tacks on softly, imploring him with her eyes not to argue that point.

He can't because she's right. But her honesty isn't the cause for his silence, it's the openness of her expression. So much like the one that made him pause when he dismounted the motorbike.

" _I've seen worse."_

" _Sorry."_

" _No," she corrects. "We could use a little worse."_

"You sound confident enough for all of us," Bruce offers with a light huff. Her confidence scares him; there's this tiny inflection in her voice which makes him believe it's possible for both of them to do some good. She speaks as if he's already a hero.

"One of us should be," Natasha tells him. She contemplates him, exhaling gently after a moment. "What's really bothering you about this Bruce?"

Sometimes he forgets she watched him before they met for the first time in Calcutta. She knows him better than he realises especially when he tries to pin all of his excuses on the Hulk. The mere mention of his alter ego has been enough to scare away other agents and saves him from addressing more personal reasons, ones he's never admitted to anyone. Not her though, not even when he tried to spook her when they first met.

"What do you mean?"

She looks unimpressed by his attempt to delay answering her. He knows exactly what she means but he doesn't think anything will make him completely comfortable with transforming regularly even with good intentions. He scoffs and looks at her to figure out if she's serious. Surely, she must know he doesn't assign a rank to his issues with transforming; he doesn't put a value to their severity in his mind. She stares back, curiosity and understanding converging into one look perfectly. "Where would you like me to start?"

"By answering my question," she encourages gently.

"People underestimate him," the words fall from his mouth before he can stop them. Even she looks surprised but she stays silent so not to break his train of thought. "Because of lack of communication, they assume there's no comprehension. People presume he'll go along with whatever plan they have to lock him away in a cage strong enough to hold him. They're wrong, he learns quickly and adapts. He'll figure a way out, one way or another."

"We're not trying to put him in cage Bruce," Natasha says softly.

"No, but how will you stop him once a fight has finished? He won't know how to tell because it's still happening in his head."

"So, we figure out a way to tell him. He kind of calmed down on his own after he cornered Loki," her brow furrows over that little detail, thinking about it.

"He doesn't like orders either," Bruce mumbles in response and she blinks a few times as he distracts her from whatever she's thinking about.

"Neither do I," she jokes. "He did what Steve asked him to do," she leans in and lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Hulk, smash."

He humours her with a tight smile. She's not going to let him get away with this so easily. He resorts to his last choice. "What about you? You said you weren't sure where you fit in the team and now you're ready to wade back in the minute they snap their fingers?"

"And you said you didn't need to read my files to know who I am," she counters thickly. "This is all I know Bruce." She pauses. "Stop trying to start an argument every time we ask about the Hulk," Natasha warns him.

He starts to argue that he doesn't do that but he knows Natasha has counter-arguments and examples ready to fire back at him. He expels a long breath to steady his nerves. His head hurts from thinking this through; a steady thump at the base of his neck threatens to bring on a headache.

"I know what it's like to sit in the dark, too afraid to sleep because we see people dying when we do. We're never gonna silence the screams, Bruce. Not completely."

Her voice cuts through the pounding in his head, as if the Other Guy wants to come out and argue his side, softer than he's ever heard it, and the moment suddenly becomes too much for him to ponder and he steps back to break the spell they're caught in. Bruce spent years wallowing and questioning why he was living the nightmare, he was always grateful that he came off worst as a result of his accident. Betty and other bystanders were able to recover from their injuries but this was his fault and he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if someone else was in his place during the experiment. He would have destroyed someone else's life.

The fact that Natasha speaks with such knowledge on something he thought he alone knew about is his undoing. She had no choice in this life, someone forced it upon her and they refuse to acknowledge any responsibility for it, but she's surpassed their expectations and conditioning and managed to do what he wishes he could and turn her life around; she's the only who can't see what she's accomplished. She's gone above and beyond her training, pushing against all instincts and conditioning, transforming herself into a hero. She'll never accept the title, no matter how many times it's bestowed upon her. He wonders how she is so unaware of the good she does, when she's so insightful about the good others are capable of.

"I'll see," Bruce says finally sounding as non-committal as he feels.

She blinks as she suppresses a sigh. "That's all we can ask."

Although she says it evenly, he senses her disappointment. He won't promise to think about it because it's a given. He thinks of little else. Even when he's working on a project, it's in the back of his mind. He takes another two steps back from the railing and glances toward the living room. Empty. He frowns; it's too quiet considering the entire team was in the building.

"Are you hungry?"

"Take out on the roof again?" Natasha replies after a moment, a little surprised by the change of topic as if she expected him to withdraw completely.

Apparently buying take out doesn't qualify as 'dinner', that entails venturing out of the Tower and neither are ready to face a mob on the street if they step out together. It also means he hasn't managed to fulfil his apology yet, despite knowing her for months living under the same room as her for weeks. It's not for lack of sincerity, just a lack of privacy.

Steve and Tony usually give them space if they're on the roof, they seem to have claimed it for themselves, but inside the Tower is different and someone is always around. Bruce doesn't want to make a fool of himself in front of her or anyone else. That's easier said than done as Natasha brings it up when he least expects it, easily slipping the words out like normal conversation when they're alone and he has to do a double take to figure out if he's heard her correctly and it's hard to tell if she still wants him to take her to dinner or if she simply enjoys teasing him about it, especially about the sandwich he made her.

Ignoring her question for now, he nods at the living room, "What's everyone else doing?"

"I set Thor up on a video chat with Jane Foster," she starts. "Apparently he wants to experience a typical Midgard long-distance relationship for an hour before he flies half way around the world to see her. Pepper's here for date night; my guess is Stark feels guilty because he sat in the meeting with us when he promised he'd quit he superhero gig after the Mandarin. Barton left—"

"So soon?" Bruce cuts in, his curiosity getting the better of him. Natasha refers to Barton as her best friend and it seems odd he would take off after not seeing her for a while.

"Yeah, he wants to stay out of dodge," Natasha sighs. "No one's called on him to testify, but he's not going to stick around for them to do so."

"You didn't want to go with him?"

Her lips twitch but she shakes her head. "There's an open invitation but no, my place is here for the time being," she's more amiable to the idea than she was a month ago. "Steve's gone too, by the way; he got a lead on Barnes and I got the impression he's going to stretch it out as long as he can," she adds.

"He and Tony need a little space," Bruce agrees.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," she quips with that ridiculous little smirk of hers which never fails to elicit a quirk of his own lips.

"Are you content with just playing cupid?" Bruce hesitantly asks, surprising both of them with the question. Bruce puts his unruly mouth down to curiosity, it's the only reason he'll acknowledge. She spends a lot of time with the soldier, they worked together since their first battle and with their recent shared experience against HYDRA they had a lot in common.

"I'm not asking him to take me to dinner," she implores. He fixes her with a long stare, unable to figure out exactly what she wants when she takes pity on him and breaks the tension. "Come on, no one else is here and I'm hungry."

* * *

They walked out the rear service entrance of the Tower, away from the reporters and their cameras to avoid being spotted. It's also a private entrance for staff wishing to bypass the vapid media. The entrance is void of the usual lavish Stark markings and blends into the rest of New York easily. It doesn't attract attention with a lone man standing on the door, though a team of security guards is posted inside the building out of view of anyone snooping.

Bruce offers a small wave to the guy standing guard at the door as they did. Natasha found the gesture and the guys' responding tip of his hat utterly ridiculous.

"You made friends with the door man?"

Her voice, full of mirth is light and easy as they drift along the fenced off alley away from the main street to a swipe card operated door in a brick wall which leads to another alley and away from the building. He knows the tension is still between them but the musical sound is enough to make him believe it's on hold for now.

"You think I'm not capable of making friends?" Bruce jokes as they slip out of the second alley.

She pulls the hood of her jacket over her hair and tucks herself into his side to make it seem like they're any other couple on the street. His arm instinctively encircles her waist to add to the ruse they want to create so no one spares them a second glance as they pass.

"No," she exhales. "You inferred your escape plan entailed more than exchanging pleasantries."

"Like you haven't relied on that in the past," Bruce counters playfully as they come to a crossing. They fall quiet as they wait with the other pedestrians for the little green man to appear on the display board above the crossing. As soon as it does, they move with the crowd and reach the other side, veering off on their own as Natasha resumes their conversation seamlessly.

"I'm not denying that, I just wanted something more complex to torture Stark with," she retorts.

"Who do you think introduced me to him? He's the guy who accepts the takeout so Pepper doesn't know." He chuckles again and they turn down a side street toward the small family run Italian restaurant he discovered shortly after moving into the Tower. He stops at the door and looks at her, half serious, "All I'm saying is that we can come and go as we please. We're not prisoners Natasha. Sometimes a little discretion is needed for others, not ourselves." He says thinking of the press camped out in front of the building. He has no say over what they publish about him but he doesn't want to give them fodder for their next headline.

"I suppose it's not the worst place I've stayed," Natasha relents, her tone belying a small eye roll. "Guess it'll do in the meantime, while I'm figuring out a new cover."

"Do you need a cover?" Bruce questions lightly as he holds the door open for her. They haven't really discussed it since they spoke on the roof after her congressional meeting; he isn't sure if she's avoiding the conversation or figuring out what she wants to do next.

"I've always had at least one available," she reminds him evenly. The words aren't meant to appease him in any way, nor do they, but they're said with a quiet confidence which gives him confidence that she's feeling better. Their conversation pauses as they're seated by a waitress in the quiet corner, farthest from the door. They order drinks quickly and she disappears to retrieve them.

When they're alone, Bruce leans his elbows on the tables and lowers his voice to apologise. "I'm sorry for asking about Steve, it's none of my business."

Natasha shrugs. "You can ask Bruce, it doesn't bother me. He's a friend."

She stops for a moment but Bruce senses she has more to say. "Steve wants to save everyone but doesn't understand redemption, he's never experienced it. He won't know until he catches up with Barnes and it'll break his heart because he won't be able to help more than offering support. He won't be able to fix this for Barnes."

"He's a good guy," Bruce adds, understands exactly what she's trying to say and why. Redemption is lonely and unique to those who need it. Steve won't be able guide his friend through it. Though she and Steve are both fighters and have a lot in common, he'll never understand that side of her.

"Too decent for his own good," Natasha smiles. "I didn't come here to speak about Rogers. I came because you owe me dinner Doc." The uttering of her nickname for him is a signal that conversation is over and it won't be long before she's teasing him.

The waitress returns with their drinks and takes their food order; spinach ravioli for him, crab linguine for her. They make small talk while they wait; 'small talk' for them consists of Natasha asking him about the research he's working on and letting him ramble for several minutes about theories she pretends she doesn't comprehend but poses the odd question which dispels that notion. Their food is placed in front of them before Bruce realises the amount of time which has elapsed. Natasha thanks the waitress and eyes her plate. Bruce does the same and he meets her eyes across the table as she twirls her fork in the pasta strands, catching the shellfish between them before lifting it to her mouth, humming at the taste.

"This is a worthy apology Doc."

"Better than a PB and J sandwich?"

"Much," she concedes with a glint in her eye, one not caused by the muted light from overhead lamps. "Although that was a good start."

"Nothing will ever," he starts but she stops him with a shake of her head.

"I don't need to hear it Bruce," Natasha says honestly.

He knows what his angrier half almost did doesn't bother her in the slightest, she dodges murder attempts regularly. This was always for his benefit rather than hers anyway and he appreciates her indulging his need to atone. He values her opinion and with that in mind he asks, "Would you think less of me if I decided not to fight?"

"No," comes her easy answer between chews. "You'll be an asset to the team with however you decide to help us Bruce."

"What if I walked away completely so I could avoid it all together?"

"That's your choice Bruce, I won't force you to stay," her fork rests on her plate with a clink as she pins him with a long stare, her eyes unreadable. "Avoiding a fight to save lives doesn't make you a monster, Bruce. Quite the opposite."

He swallows the lump in his throat. "You could've left after DC, why did you stay?"

She gives him a soft, almost sad smile. "I wanted to, but someone reminded me there's this strange group of guys who would be lost without me; a guy who sees more in me than I do in myself, a guy who gives inspirational pep talks, a God who treats me like a fellow warrior, an eccentric rich guy who has a penchant for calling me 'Red' even though he wears a red suit of armour. Then there's this other guy," her eyes fix on his as she purses her lips. "Who had the audacity to pretend to change into a green rage monster just to see how I'd react." She pauses. "I'll miss you if you go."

It's not as simple as that and he's not easily swayed by words although he's touched by her honesty. They all mean a lot to him as well. He wishes he never opened his mouth to burden her with his question.

"I'd miss you too, but I'm not going."

He's considered it but there's nowhere safer for him. He just doesn't want his life here to hinge on whether he fights or not. It'd be back to where he started and he can't go back to that life.

"Good, who else would keep me company on the roof in the evening? They all talk too much."

He bobs his head in acknowledgement. "I'll get you some ear plugs if you like."

"There's no need if you're staying."

Bruce opens the door for Natasha to lead the way out onto the sidewalk, turning toward the Tower. He groans when he feels the first droplets on his face and sees them land on his lenses, blurring his vision. Seemingly unfazed by the weather, Natasha strides on and he follows her lead. But the rain is against them and sprinkle of rain falls quicker and heavier and soon they're caught in a downpour which drenches them within moments. Normally neither would be bothered by the weather but he can barely see through his lenses so he has to duck under a shop canopy for cover while he wipes them.

The weather doesn't affect Natasha's senses and the spy looks over her shoulder the second he does. Joining him under the shelter, she offers with a tiny slant of her lips.

"What do you think? Want to wait it out?" She asks.

Bruce looks at her, hair dripping wet and sticking together, some plastered to her face, tiny rivulets of water flow down her leather jacket, and her jeans soaked through. And she's asking him if he wants to wait it out. He's not any better, probably a slightly more pathetic sight as he fails to find a dry tissue to wipe his glasses with.

"We could," he offers but the canopy won't offer ideal cover for long, the wind picking up and blowing the water onto Natasha's back and she's forced to step toward him so she's out of the splash zone. Unfortunately, this puts her inside his personal space and they both tense for a millisecond too long. Then her face softens in a way he's seeing frequently, and given the way she reacts when it does, it's a rare occurrence. It has this way of cutting through him, unnerving and making his heart beat a little faster than it should. Like now. "Or we could make a run for it?"

"Will you be able to see where you're going? Or will I have to do my best _Singing in The Rain_ rendition so you can follow the sound of my voice?" She teases.

He chuckles nervously, trying to convince himself it's the prospect of going blind in the mini dour pour rather than her offer to sing for him. Definitely not a serious offer but he's tempted to call her bluff. Still looking for a dry tissue, Bruce pats his jacket pocket with no joy. Seeing his predicament, Natasha unzips her jacket and reaches into the inside pocket, pulling out a tissue for him to use. He dumbly takes it from her with a small quirk of his lips, trying to think of something to say which won't make him sound like a dork.

"Would it have to be _Singing in The Rain_ or do you take requests?" He pushes out as he folds the tissue between his fingers and dries his lenses. He looks in the direction of her face, a little fuzzy but open and utterly amused.

"Don't push it Doc," Natasha breathes out with a low laugh.

Her eyes are the first thing he focuses on when he replaces the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Bright and greener than usual, verging on expectant. Of what, he doesn't know or maybe he doesn't want to chance a guess. He smiles as her mouth curls up at the corners as she looks toward the street and the heavy downpour. "Guess we'll have to bring an umbrella next time."

"There's going to be a next time?" She questions and he tries to ignore the hopeful surprise in her voice.

"If you want to," he says and tries not to recoil when she takes a step forward as a passer-by walks under their canopy to get a little protection before he ventures on through the rain. She doesn't correct her position once he passes.

He tries to remind himself this isn't a date; their friendship is new, and evolving as well as it can, considering their trust issues though he's given her details of his experience with the Hulk he's never been able to admit to anyone else. He doesn't deny his attraction to Natasha, but acting on it will cause more complications than they already have, and there are many more reasons unrelated to even the Other Guy. He's not willing to risk the tenuous connection he feels with her for something he's not capable to act on. But sitting across the table from her for a couple of hours made him feel like a normal guy who can enjoy a simple night out with a woman who engages his mind and indulges his bad jokes.

"I want to," she roughly admits.

Bruce feels her fingers graze his shirt as she stares at him. He makes a mistake by looking at her lips. She takes another half step forward, her movement slow and deliberate so not to spook him. Despite everything telling him this is the wrong thing to do, despite his own experience with this situation, he leans in too. His lips touch her soft pliant ones gently and she sinks into his body as she emits a happy little noise which is quashed as their lips press against each other again. His hands brace her hips, pulling her forward when she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. As he's drawn into the kiss, he keeps track of his steadily rising heartbeat. He's not the only one as Natasha pulls back before it becomes too much for him. Their eyes meet.

"That was interesting," she says with a quick quirk of her mouth.

"And a really bad idea," Bruce hesitantly starts.

 **Is it a really bad idea?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Note – Finally. This has taken longer than I thought it would but thank you all for being patient with me, especially Black' Victor Cachat who's been wonderful as usual.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter five

' _I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.' ―_ _Charlie Chaplin_

Her heels splash through the puddles as she strides through the onslaught of the down pour. Instead of calming, the rain seemed to grow heavier with each step. Water runs down her face, dripping off her chin, hiding her embarrassment. Her clothes are soaked and stick to her body but she barely acknowledges the weighing her down. Bruce trails close behind her, neither bothering to raise an arm to shield themselves from the onslaught of the shower.

"Natasha, wait," he says trying to catch up with her.

"It's okay Bruce," Natasha snaps, a large droplet flicking from her lip.

He lengthens his strides, his shoes hit the pavement with wet thuds flicking the surface water. She feels him close in and his fingers touch her wrist to stop her. She spins on her heel to face him, stopping sharply as she misjudges the distance. They both hesitate; their eyes meet, wide and bright, reflecting the bright street light above them. Their chests heave causing their jackets to meet. His fingers relax but linger on her wrist, reluctant to let her go. Usually she'd bestow him with a pointed glance at where their skin touches but she doesn't want to be aggressive.

"I'm sorry," Bruce breathes out. "I don't...I didn't mean to..." He falls silent, staring at her apologetically. His free hand lifts to her face, thumb barely grazes her jaw before he hesitates and it falls away. "It'd be very easy to fall for you Natasha," he utters softly with regret. "It'll never work."

Work.

Natasha's eyes narrow at him. He thinks this is work for her. "I thought you were done questioning my motives."

"Natasha…" he draws out, his forehead creasing in confusion. His eyes widen slowly, the creases smooth out as he realises what she means. "No-."

"When are you going to accept there are people who don't see you as a monster?" She counters softly, withdrawing from his grasp as she backs away from him with a shake of her head.

"You don't see _him_ as a monster?" He counters sceptically.

"At first," she confesses. She knows what a monster is, she considers herself to be one. Lurking, waiting, pouncing at the right moment. He's far from that definition. "Now I think he's very misunderstood, just like his alter ego."

No, the Hulk's alter ego is seen as an eccentric, jittery man who spent years on the run so the military wouldn't put him in a cage. Which is partly true, but Bruce is also a self-sacrificing, sweet man who refuses to let anyone get to close for fear of hurting them.

"You have no idea Natasha," Bruce says bitterly. "But I'm not going to argue with you over it. All I'm trying to say is you don't have to kiss me to convince me to do something."

"I'm not trying to convince you to do anything Bruce," she vehemently promises, anger shielding the hurt and disappointment she never expected. "Nothing I say will change your mind because you still think of me as just an agent, so forget tonight ever happened."

…...

Natasha is the first out of the elevator when the doors spring open on their floor. She crosses the living as quickly as she can to the corridor which leads to their private rooms. Bruce watches her go, lingering on her soaked form, her clothes plastered to her body as she races away from him as she tries to forget what happened between them on the street. She may be the Black Widow, confident, aloof, beautiful, but that is no excuse for being as blunt as he was when he rejected her. Another thing he needs to apologise for; his behaviour not his reasons.

It would be easy to fall for Natasha; physical attributes aside, she is smart, quietly indulges his nerdy ramblings and has a dark sense of humour which compliments his own.

Above all it's clear from their conversations that she understands him. He will find a way to explain this to her but they need space, which is why he lets her go. It would have been a fool proof plan if Tony hadn't been walking down the corridor towards her, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. Bruce can only imagine the glare she's giving his friend.

"Need a towel?" Tony quips at her appearance and she ignores as she passes him in the doorway, causing him to pause when she doesn't pay him any attention. "You're going to give a guy a complex if you keep ignoring him," Tony calls to her retreating form. He frowns when she doesn't react, not even to flip him the finger. He turns back to Bruce and gestures down the hall. "What's with Whirlwind Red?"

"Um, we got caught in the rain," Bruce says lamely, trying to keep Tony's attention on him rather than Natasha.

"Aren't you going to change? You're drippy too," Tony points out as he follows Bruce.

"I have a change of clothes in the lab," Bruce replies as he turns on his heel toward the metal spiral staircase. His shoes squeak lightly with each step and it only gets worse when he reaches the tile floor of the lab as the rebellious soles squelch louder. He refuses to give Tony the satisfaction of turning around when he snickers. He's already keenly aware of Tony's examination and the wild theories he must be coming up with, he doesn't need to give Tony reasons for the mocking Bruce is certain he is gearing up for.

Instead he heads straight for his desk and pulls out the go bag he stashed in the bottom drawer. He ignores his friend who looks at it curiously. The bag of essentials is a relatively new addition to the kit he keeps in the lab. He started preparing when HYDRA revealed themselves. It's for emergency only. He spends most of his time in the lab, so if anyone decide to attack the Tower, he can leave without diverting to his room. He ducks into the supply closet and begins to tug at his wet clothes. They hit the floor with a wet thud which resonates in his ear as he quickly towels off and puts on fresh sweats and a tee shirt.

"We have a pool in the gym downstairs, you didn't need to go out to get Red wet," Tony teases through the door. Bruce shakes his head at the crude joke. "It doesn't count as skinny dipping unless you're both naked."

"Tony," Bruce warns with a groan. "It's not like that."

"It isn't?" Comes Tony's response without the mocking tone. "Enlighten me Buddy."

"She's a friend." At least he hopes she still is after he explains himself.

"She's a weapon of mass deception," Tony counters from the lab.

If it was said at any other time, Bruce would put it down to the barbs Tony and Natasha trade on a daily basis and let the comment slide but after tonight he feels defensive on her behalf. "That's not fair Tony."

"Isn't it? She's a spy who's trained to infiltrate by any means necessary, manipulation is like breathing to her. It doesn't bother her. Are you certain she isn't making a power play for the team?"

Bruce swings the door open in frustration, almost colliding with Tony on the other side as he steps out abruptly. He stops short of his friend who pointedly stares back, and that's when he realises he is defensive because the same thoughts crossed his mind earlier tonight.

But he's not going to admit that to Tony. "What's your evidence, Tony?" He asks tiredly.

"She's got the rest of the team wrapped around her little finger," he wiggles his pinky at him to emphasise his point. Bruce rolls his eyes at him but Tony continues regardless. "Barton aside, she's tight with Popsicle, whispering in his ear, and she cuddles up with you out on the roof every night."

"It's not every night," Bruce weakly defends only for Tony to scoff.

"But there is cuddling?"

Bruce rolls his eyes again, repeating, "She's a friend." He sidesteps Tony and ventures further into the lab toward his desk and computer, which is on standby. His hand brushes the mouse and the login screen illuminates.

"What do we actually know about her? Or Barton for that matter. They were Fury's golden boy and teacher's pet. Who knows why they're sticking around? Why is this important to them?"

"Why do any of us do anything? There's always a chance I'm wrong but I believe they're genuinely here to help," Bruce interrupts rhetorically, unwilling to be drawn into questioning the motives of the former spies, Natasha's earlier words coming back to him. "We went out because I needed to talk about the meeting today away from the Tower."

Tony's bravado drops, distracted from Natasha momentarily. "What about it?"

"Participation," he answers quickly looking at Tony, who understands what he's alluding to. "You promised Pepper you were out after the Mandarin," Bruce infers. "Does that promise negate your involvement?" Bruce asks as he pushes a hand into his pocket.

The billionaire makes a face and awkwardly stuffs his hands in his own pockets, well as self-conscious as Tony gets. "That's why Pepper flew in tonight." He faces the glass wall which looks out over the living area.

"All of your suits are gone," Bruce points out.

"The suits can be rebuilt but Hill didn't give enough details to make me think they're a necessity for the team," Tony dismisses.

"You changed your mind?" Bruce frowns.

"Yes and no," Tony says cautiously. "It's not just about HYDRA, they almost wiped out millions. Who knows where we would be if Capsicle and Red weren't as tenacious as they were?" He pauses for any reaction to the mention of Natasha. There is none and he sighs dramatically before continuing. "Who knows if Loki was working alone? They could be out there preparing another attack, show up on our door step guns blazing and we'll never stand a chance."

"You're signing up on a presumption?"

"If it saves Pepper," Tony replies simply.

Bruce nods slowly. His friend's reason is at the forefront of most decisions since the Mandarin. He's more considerate of Pepper, and together they've made a concerted effort to spend time together since their home in Malibu was destroyed. Pepper is a wonderful foil for Tony, calm and collected in the face of impulsive and hot headed. There's no doubt in Bruce's mind she will understand if there is proper cause for Tony to rebuild the suits, but her first concern is Tony's safety and state of mind.

"How does she feel about that?"

"We talked about it," Tony says without giving a definitive answer. "We agreed the suits are a last resort. But I made her a promise I don't want to break, even if she gives me her blessing." Bruce raises his eyebrows at that. "Who knew I could consider others when I make decisions? Personal growth is a bitch," Tony scoffs self-derisively.

"You're not going to suit up?" Bruce clarifies.

"The last thing I want to do is put on a suit," he reluctantly admits and continues quickly before Bruce has the chance to question his reasons. "I was thinking of what Hill said about support, they don't have boots on the ground to protect and clear civilians while the Avengers are fighting. Like she said, we can't trust anyone affiliated with SHIELD."

"What's your idea?" He's intrigued by the prospect; especially if it ensures public safety.

"I still have the facilities to make the suits, it wouldn't take much tweaking to produce a batch which don't need pilots."

"Like Vanko did? The guy who adapted them to terrorize the Stark Expo?" Bruce asks to make sure he understands him.

"The very same but I was thinking less homicidal, more keeping the peace," Tony clarifies with a flourish of his hand.

"Didn't Natasha hack his system?" Bruce asks with a smirk. He'd heard all about it during one of Tony's alcohol fuelled rants about how their new roommate saved Colonel Rhodes after beating up a bunch of guys while Happy took down one. His inebriated friend went on to explain how paranoid he was the assassin would hack JARVIS and his suits to either kill him mid-flight or make him do the chicken dance at a press conference.

"What is the point of having this discussion if you're going make perfectly reasonable counter arguments?" Tony jokes. Bruce suppresses a chuckle when his friend continues. "JARVIS would be the first line of defence and be able to monitor them to start with. He'll recognise patterns and alert us to potential issues. Beyond that, we could develop something which would think for itself rather than being told what was right and wrong. Each of them have their own individual operating system, like an advanced JARVIS."

"Even JARVIS has limitations and protocols to follow," Bruce points out quietly with a furtive glance at the overhead lighting, oddly afraid the AI in question would hear and take offense. He's been quiet during this conversation and Bruce wonders if Tony activated his privacy setting.

"But it's a good starting point, no one understands the potential algorithms more than we do," Tony counters.

"I think you're overestimating our capabilities," Bruce chuckles self-consciously. Tony is brilliant and his confidence is infectious, not that Bruce is an unwilling lab partner. He continually finds himself setting up an experiment well aware it is potentially explosive outcome and likely to set off the fire alarms while they giggle like school boys. But there are times when Bruce wishes Tony would exercise some humility over what he describes as a ' _terrible privilege'_ ,as if it is their duty. There is a lot of researchers looking into the field of artificial intelligence as well as developing prototypes but they paled in comparison to Tony's current operating system. It has potential, but is years away from being an eventuality. No one knows how artificial intelligence will warp the operating procedure if it has the ability to think for itself. While Tony was good a thinking of the ideal situation, Bruce, at least since his accident, tends to focus on the ramifications. "It's a fantasy which could go horribly wrong."

"I'm thinking of a long-term strategy; after we stop HYDRA. What happens then? What do we want to happen?" He pauses for effect as if he were pitching an idea to his board rather than Bruce. "We all have to make sacrifices to be heroes. But those sacrifices mean harder choices we make with results that don't please everyone. You thought it best to leave your life behind - I'm not saying that's wrong, you didn't have control like you do now. But I can't do that with Pepper, I don't want her to feel she isn't important as a result. I don't want to repeat the past and there's no way of undoing it. Now is what matters. If I have to lose a couple of months, a year, of my life to this then I want to make sure I don't sacrifice her too." Tony looks a little sheepish as he stops.

Bruce watches Tony blink a few times before he swipes a hand across his face and shakes himself out of his reverie. The pain in his friend's expression reminds him of the ever-present fear of transforming, fear of releasing that rage, fear of waking to unknown devastation caused by his alter ego. He doesn't remember everything, flashes at best. He's grateful for that because he doesn't know what he'd do if he was fully cognisant of his actions while the Hulk was in control of their body.

They've all lost so much already; Steve left behind friends and missed out on growing old with the woman he loved, Tony had to put his partying days behind him (the man grieved the simpler days of getting hammered and snoring through board meetings), at one-point Natasha had parents who she was stolen from. Bruce wonders if they died when she was taken or if they were still out there searching for their little girl. The possibilities are endless. His own life fell apart after the accident. Bruce shakes his head; their lives have been destroyed. It wasn't fair, nor was it fair to expect any of them to give up more than they already have. They could lessen the impact on all of their lives if they work together.

"I'm pretty lucky she didn't leave me and I don't want to risk it again," Tony tacks on quietly, his throat catching in a way Bruce has never heard before.

"She loves you."

"Yeah," Tony agrees. Bruce feels his eyes on him then, apologetic and assessing. The ensuing loaded silence is broken when Tony contritely offers, "Guess I'm one of the lucky ones who can pass on my suit to someone good enough if I retire."

"What about Rhodes?" Bruce tries to deflect the awkward atmosphere. He resided himself a long time ago to being perpetually entwined with the Hulk for the rest of his life.

"We're the same age, we'll have to find a replacement for him too. Plus, there's the branding to consider, a military man deserting Iron Patriot in favour of Iron Man? Think of the public outcry."

Bruce shakes his head. "Will you hold auditions or make them compete in trials?"

Tony pretends to ponder his question for a minute before replying. "I like your thinking, but we can figure it when the time comes. For now, let's discuss your little field trip with Romanoff."

Bruce chuckles in spite of himself. Of course, Tony wouldn't let him get away with trying to deflect. He looks to his friend and figures he better get this over with because Tony won't stop till he confesses. "I said I might leave."

Tony doesn't react to his admission, in fact he looks like he expected it. "She's annoyed at you because you won't help," he guesses.

"The opposite, actually but it doesn't matter because I'm staying."

Tony nods thoughtfully. "Are you sure you want to? You've never been comfortable with the idea of fighting, even before New York."

"If I remember correctly, you talked me into that." Tony was the more welcoming of the group when they first met, actively encouraging the use of the Hulk when others were leery of what he is capable of. It's strange to hear his friend giving him different advice.

"People change." Blunt but true. "After New York, it felt like this vice around my throat and I couldn't breathe. I was out of my depth, suffocating myself and Pepper. You've been there, done that. Not that I want you to leave but maybe you should walk away before it happens again, you're in a good place right now."

"Why is that advice good enough for me and not you?"

"Because your anger issues are more pronounced than my performance issues," Tony returns quickly.

Bruce isn't in the mood to argue whether one issue has more value over another because they don't. He knows falling through the wormhole exasperated his PTSD, giving him an anxiety attacks. Bruce is one of the few people Tony entrusts with his real feelings because he knows there's no judgement from him. Worry for his friend relapsing cements his decision to stay, he can't let him shoulder the pain alone.

"It'll be easier on all of us if we work together," Bruce concedes as he eyes the gigantic tank adjacent to the lab. "Hopefully won't take too long either."

"A new cavalier attitude inspired by a certain curvy, red-haired assassin? She's a bad influence on you buddy," Tony smugly enquires and Bruce rolls his eyes. "Right there, that eye roll was all Romanoff," he accuses jokingly pointing at Bruce's face. It continually amazes him with how Tony can switch from a heartfelt conversation to making jokes in the next breath. "She rolls her eyes at everything I say."

"She doesn't hold a monopoly on rolling her eyes." Bruce smiles but shakes his head. He wants to curb all discussion of her eyes and the connections they evoke. "I'm not comfortable with committing myself to fighting with the rest of you, but I trust you. Whether I'm here or not, HYDRA could target me at any time to use the Other Guy. At least I trust you to help me if that happens."

He feels safer with the team. They will limit the damage if he transforms; he doesn't trust anyone else with that.

"Believable, but you need to sell it more," Tony sends Bruce a smug glance while settling comfortably against a work bench. "No one's going to force you to leave your home whether or not you agree to fight."

"Been a long time since I had a home," Bruce mumbles heartened by Tony's words. It's not like any home he's experienced before; expensive furnishing and state of the art personal laboratory aside there's a lot more laughter, first with Tony and lately with Natasha.

"Well get used to it, because you'll always have one here," Tony promises.

"Thank you," Bruce says, his voice thick with emotion.

"Look, I'm happy you're staying but fix whatever happened with you and Natasha. We're going to be spending our foreseeable future together and one of us needs to stay sane," Tony says. "And we know it's not going to be me. So, it's on you to be the reasonable one."

"We need to make some adjustments to the tank if I'm staying," Bruce says as he goes to the reinforced entrance, ignoring the comment about Natasha. They need some space and perspective. "As it stands, the Other Guy will just rip it apart. The Tower has enough repairs going on as it is."

"First thing in the morning, I'll ask Hill for the specs SHIELD used for the one aboard the Hellicarrier," Tony agrees. "See if they had any ideas we haven't thought of yet."

"I've got a few," Bruce says stepping up to the tank door. Swiping his hand over the reader, the door opens with a swoosh. "I'm going to get a head start tonight, I'll see you in the morning."

"What about Red?" Tony asks as the door locks behind Bruce.

 _A steady flow of rain hits the pavement behind her as their lips meet, softly at first, testing and hesitatingly. She expects him to break away at any moment. Instead she feels his fingers touch her jacket, they slip underneath when she doesn't shake him off and his hands rest on her waist lightly, drawing her into him and his kiss. He's still in full control, she notes with surprise. Oddly she finds her own slipping and he swallows her moan before it has the chance to escape her._

 _Their mouths move together, slowly but steadily building momentum. Her fingers track up his shirt through the gape in his open jacket till one hand encounters the stubble on the underside of his jaw, then she slides her palm around his neck as the other hand scrunches his shirt in her hand to keep him close._

 _Thump, thump, thump. The steady beat in his chest is mirrored in her own; he's completely oblivious to the affect he has on her and no one is as surprised as herself. She keeps track of his heartbeat, measuring the fast pace as it quickens when she teases his mouth open to deepen the kiss, she knows when it'll be too much for him. There's enough time for both of them to enjoy the simple touch. A first for her; of all the other kisses, the ones she's bestowed on others and others have bestowed on her, served a purpose or distraction, this is the first she's given just for the sake of kissing._

Now he assumes she is under some misguided notion that she's been intending to seduce him to stay so they can use him and the Hulk in the war against HYDRA.

He never even considered she kissed him because wants to kiss him.

It was a stupid mistake which she'll berate herself for as long as she likes. After enduring a strained walk through the rain back to the Tower and a suffocating elevator ride, she would've taken the stairs if she didn't look like she'd been swimming with her clothes on, she found herself facing the elements once again as she stubbornly stares out at the city. She doesn't know how long she's been out here, she hasn't kept track but the rain stopped while they were in the elevator and the residual water is dripping somewhere behind her. She can't bring herself to care.

"He thinks I'm manipulating him," Natasha says under her breath as she looks out at the view she usually shares with the man she's thinking about.

"He doesn't. For what it's worth," Tony says walking up behind her.

Great, now she's letting Shellhead sneak up on her. She is losing her touch. She should have stayed in her bedroom. Another mistake. Three in one night. This is getting ridiculous. She blames Bruce for being too nice to her when she doesn't deserve it.

"I didn't come out here to piss you off," Tony offers when she turns to face him. "Okay maybe a little, but that's normal for you and me," Tony relents. "I thought we should discuss our common ground. Heck I was able to sneak up on you, whatever happened is obviously bothering you."

"What did he say?" She may be revealing information herself, admitting there is something to say, but there's no guarantee Bruce told anyone. The tension is obvious and there's no point in denying it, Tony's attune to it and likely to jump on any denial, and she doesn't want any more attention than she has to endure. A cryptic confession may save her from explaining the details.

"He didn't, he's tweaking something in the Hulk tank. Do you want to talk?"

Save her from everyone bar Tony Stark. Normally she'd disregard it as sarcasm but there is something in his voice which tells her he's serious though he knows she's not going to open up to him.

"We went out to dinner," she admits.

"He mentioned something about food," Tony prods. "What happened?"

"It's none of your business," Natasha says as she spins away from him.

"It is if you're working the team," Tony's response makes her stop as before she goes into the living room. She turns back around. "Come on Red, you can't blame me for thinking you're trying to control us, you have previously after all."

"You're being the voice of reason for once," the words are bitter in her mouth.

"First time for everything," he quips. "Are you playing him? Just when I was ready to make you co-founder of the Bruce Banner fan club."

"Your mind is already made up, will anything I say change your opinion?" She eyes him warily; his sarcasm had less bite than normal, tinge of uncertainty. Her eyes drift lower to the words on his shirt. _'I'm Bruce Banners' lab partner'_ with a hashtag and ' _sciencebros'_ underneath. She stares at the sentiment for a longer than she should; she realises her mistake but doesn't correct herself even when she knows her eyes are softening.

Stark inevitably follows her gaze and huffs out his own amusement. "Yeah, I got one made for him but he refuses to wear it."

Her lips curl of their own accord at the image in her head. She knows there is no way Bruce would wear it, even with some of the questionable clothing choices he makes when he's left naked after transforming back from the Hulk. Her teeth worry her lip to stop them from lifting higher when she remembers some of the surveillance photos in his files, she has to admit his body is better than his ill-fitting clothes suggest. He's wearing better clothes now, even if they're still a little baggy.

"He's scared he'll rip it," Natasha finally replies as she turns her head back to the city.

"I would've gone with stretchy fabric but I do not want to be the one responsible for covering those pecs when he suits up."

She smiles at the image of the Hulk wearing the shirt in her head. "Point taken but I think he'd appreciate a little privacy when he wakes up," she counters kinder than she feels right now.

"Like you're not sneaking a peek," Tony comments and she snorts despite herself. He pushes her boundaries, and damn her, she enjoys their back and forth banter. Not that she'd ever admit it. Tony is unaffected by her reaction and he turns serious. "I'm still waiting for an explanation."

"I'm not working him or anyone else," Natasha sighs. "I guess I misread the situation."

"You misread the situation?" Tony questions incredulously. "You? Natasha Romanoff, _the_ Black Widow, misread _the_ situation? Hmm," he says exaggerating his knowing, teasing tone.

She swallows the comeback which is on the tip of her tongue. She wants to go inside to strip off her drenched clothes, dry off and crawl into bed for a sleepless night. She should have done that as soon as she stepped off the elevator in the opposite direction from Bruce.

"No, I reacted badly to it." She shrugs. "I made a mistake, is that what you want to hear?"

"You'd think I would but it's kind of disappointing when it happens. I've mess up ten times a day-." Natasha raises an eyebrow and he stammers, "I'm not counting any mishaps in the lab because they're furthering my research."

"I've never heard explosions referred to as mishaps," she quips.

"My point is suck it up and apologise Red,"

He hangs his head and exhales. "Maybe he's scared of ripping more than his shirt."

"I understand that." She does but that's not what hurts. Bruce is questioning her motives, like everyone else. Like Stark. The urge to push him over the railing is strong and she resolutely leans her hip on it before she acts on the impulse. "And I don't need you to tell me that."

"Did he actually say he thinks you're manipulating him?" He asks far gentler than Natasha ever expected him to. "He's got this big green tell when he gets angry."

Natasha nods in agreement, remembering the first time they met in the hut. "No, he didn't."

"Any chance you're projecting?"

"Look who knows therapy buzz words," she tries to joke.

"Semi regular visits help," Tony admits.

"Semi regular?"

"When JARVIS reminds me."

"I remind you every week sir but you ignore me sixty seven percent of the time," the AI system interjects smoothly.

"It's better than nothing," Tony grumbles toward the speakers nestled in between light fixtures.

"Hmm," Natasha drawls softly. She contemplates him; he's changed from the arrogant, self-serving man she met years ago. That day in his gym seems like a lifetime ago. "Is it helping?"

"I don't know, if anything it gives me reasons I shouldn't go. My therapist says your initial assessment of me was spot on, by the way."

"Go figure," Natasha answers sarcastically. She sighs when he doesn't respond, "He was talking about leaving."

"How did you convince him to stay?"

"I didn't, he chose to stay all on his own," she admits.

"But you mumbled something about manipulation."

"I went too far. I just want him to stay," Natasha confesses softly.

She panicked. Two weeks ago, he convinced her to stay and now he wants to walk away. She wants him to stay for purely selfish reasons. With Fury gone and Clint staying away to protect his family, she has very few people she's comfortable being around. Damn him for being nice to her, for being someone she wants to spend time with.

Natasha enjoyed the kiss. Bruce did too.

His mouth was soft and supple, moving against hers. He wasn't shy and reserved nor overly zealous. His dark brown eyes almost black as she reluctantly pulled away to check on him. She could still feel the sensation of his lips and was preparing to lean back in when he spoke.

Natasha is an expert at reading people, picks up on the someone's tells which they don't even know about. She knows Bruce is attracted to her physically, the slight pupil dilation when he looks at her, the almost imperceptible inhale when she walks in the room, the soft timber of his voice lowering when he speaks to her.

He cares for her, they may have only met months ago and they've only spent a fraction of that time together, but she knows he does.

It's evident in the way he treats her. He checks on her without being overt about it, bringing her a sandwich or coffee or sitting with her at night. He draws her out with his quiet confidence, instilling her confidence in him. She's alluded to the darker parts of her past and he's heard the rumours yet he still looks at her as a person rather than a weapon, and she hoped it was clear to Bruce she is doing the same with him.

She understands his reservations with pursuing the fledgling attraction, she shares many of them. She's probably ruined any chance of developing their friendship with him, possibly the team, by acting on it too soon. It's too much, too quick for him

This is exactly what he accused her of when they met in Calcutta. He thinks she's like every other agent who worked him, she can only hope he gives her a chance to explain. Even she finds herself questioning her growing appreciation bordering on affection for him, and it threw her timing off. This isn't an assignment where she can let herself be emotionally detached. She's never lost sight of herself when she was undercover and she rarely misjudged a situation.

This is different, this is her new life.

"He would've gone by now if he was going to, he's not big on goodbyes," Tony cuts through her thoughts, seemingly unconcerned by her revelation.

It's a good point. Unless Bruce expects her to leave because she made the mistake of kissing him.

She hates second guessing herself and everyone around her. She never used to worry about, she was certain of her capabilities to read others. She never used to make allowances for others but she did for him.

"For what it's worth, he defended you."

It meant a lot. It is a little glimmer of hope at the end of a long day, one she's cautious of accepting. Tony has no reason to throw her a line. It's almost like he's tiptoeing around her. They never do that and she can only assume that has to do with his friendship with Bruce.

"It's worth a lot Stark," Natasha says gratefully.

"And you're both staying?" Tony double checks doubtfully without meet her eyes and waits patiently for her answer.

She fights the frown threatening to form at his extended, hesitant pause. They tease, insult, argue, and there are times when she fantasises about killing him in many, many ways. He knows how to hold a grudge, attacking with sarcasm and hyperbole when he's feeling defensive. He's annoying, childish, hyper, and arrogant. He's the guy who can't walk past a warning sign without doing the opposite of what it says.

She tilts her head slightly to force him to look at her, the flash of a cautiously expectant glance is enough to implore her. He's not hiding his hesitation. Though it takes her a moment to figure out why it's directed at her. Her throat tightens as she realises he's as invested as the rest of them, and deems her as essential to the team as Steve, Thor, Clint and Bruce. Stark looks like he's about to bolt if she doesn't answer him soon, and if she calls him out for dropping his guard in front of her.

"Are _you_ working us Stark?" Natasha smirks softly to deflect to the suddenly thick atmosphere which begrudging truce they seem to have reached tonight.

"Of course," he exclaims, his mouth curving into a grin mirroring her own. He bobs his head quickly in appreciation for allowing his waiver to go without comment. Neither want more emphasis on it than necessary. It's been a rough night for all of them.

She huffs quietly and pushes away from the railing. "Good night Stark."

"You're not going to talk to Bruce?"

"Not tonight," she says and he opens his mouth to argue but she continues before he can. "Quit while you're ahead Shellhead, it's all about timing and right now he and I need space from one another." He doesn't seem satisfied by her answer, so she adds, "I'll see him in the morning."

 **In the morning? No. But soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author Note – Thanks to Black Victor Cachat for being a fantastic beta and listener. Also thanks to those who left a comment. I love reading feedback, so if you have a few minutes let me know what you think of the story so far. If you're too shy to leave a public comment, my PM's are always open. I'm not going to make any more promises on the next chapter as real life is unpredictable but thanks for continuing to read :D.**

Rooftop Conversations - chapter six

" _A world of ifs, but it would make no difference. If I could go back in time... but I couldn't. The past was behind me. The best thing now would be to stop looking over my shoulder. It was time to forget the past and look to the present and future." ―_ _Darren Shan_ _,_ _A Living Nightmare_

* * *

 _He stumbles to his feet disoriented, he has no idea where he is nor can he focus enough to find out. Pain sears through him, a white-hot heat emanating from his stomach as he hears his clothes ripping under the strain of his expanding muscles. He falls forward and manages to brace himself against a wall which feels like metal._

 _Behind him he hears metal rolling against metal as well as a woman's voice breaks through the thundering roar in his head, trying to talk to him gently. He tries to form the words to tell her not to bother. To run, it's too late. But only a low growl escapes him. Her soothing tone turns to pleading, bargaining with him, promising something beyond her abilities._

" _I swear on my life, I will get you out of this, you can walk away_. _" Her voice, void of cool sarcasm, is breathy and grunts fill the silence between her words._

" _Your life?" His snarl echoes off the metal walls. He needs to put as much distance as he can between them before the inevitable. He needs her to run. Steam hisses from a burst pipe as he stumbles forward. His shirt is almost in tatters as he continues to grow but somehow his trousers manage to cling to his frame._

 _He turns at the sound of metal clanging and he meets the frightened gaze of the woman who brought him on board hours ago. Her eyes wide, full of concern as she finally sees the real him. "Bruce," she pants softly but it's too late and all he can answer her with is a roar._

His eyes burst open when the roar escapes him. Heat erupts in the pit of his stomach, travelling through his body as he spasms where he fell asleep on the floor. Rolling onto his back he catches glimpse of the interior of the Hulk Tank around him, he gasps "JARVIS, seal the tank."

"Of course, Doctor Banner."

* * *

Her eyes spring open when the building jolts for the first time. At the second jolt, she jumps out of bed and after a cursory glance at her tank top and shorts she blindly drags on the shirt she found draped over the end of her bed when she returned to her room last night. She's halfway out the door when it settles over her torso. She rolls her eyes at the wording, suppressing a chuckle.

She jogs toward the common areas, glancing out the windows for any sign the city is under siege, but finds none. No alarms sound, no warning from JARVIS. "JARVIS?" She asks as rushes down the corridor.

"It appears a Code: Green is taking place Miss Romanoff," the omnipresent operating system replies.

"Code: Green?" She questions, though as she says it she has an inkling of what it refers too. Her mind supplying the answer of 'Bruce' before he can answer her.

Natasha is still waiting for validation when the building shakes with a third jolt and she has to skid to a halt at the edge of the living room to avoid colliding with Stark who's still half asleep, his hair sticking out in every which direction. Before he can comment on hers she drags her red locks back into a sloppy ponytail with the band she finds in her shorts. She opens her mouth to ask what he knows, but a fourth jolt sways the building.

"The Big Guy's strutting," Tony mumbles through a yawn beside her as JARVIS confirms her suspicions.

"Doctor Banner completed a transformation four minutes and twelve seconds ago. The Hulk is currently contained in the secure tank beside Doctor Banner's laboratory."

"It's actually holding him?" Tony asks proudly surprised, his voice more alert at the news.

"For now," JARVIS answers. "It is showing signs of strain, however. If the Hulk continues to hit the reinforced glass with his current force, he will be able to escape in approximately five minutes."

Natasha is already running toward the lab, vaulting the staircase railing before JARVIS finishes his report. She is fully aware of what the Hulk will do if he gets out. She is fully aware of what it'll do to Bruce if he does.

"Uh, we're on it JARVIS," Tony replies starting after Natasha up the metal stairway to the lab. "Ring Jane Foster, Thor is with her. We may need him."

"Already dialling Sir."

Natasha ignores them as she rushes through the door and stops in front of the window separating them from the Hulk, who smashes his large green fist into it and shakes the building again. Stress fractures splinter away from his knuckles. She absentmindedly thinks the tanks sensors need realigning; he'll be out in less than five minutes.

Through the cracked glass she sees him become increasingly frustrated within his cell; although he's focused on the glass as a weak point, it's clear from the state of the tank it's not where he started. He's made dents in the far wall made of reinforced steel and light fittings hang from the ceiling. She assumes the small pile of cloth is the T-shirt Bruce was wearing before the transformation; his pants, she notes, are clinging to the Hulk's legs.

"Well, this is new," Tony quips as he stops beside her.

Natasha ignores him and stares at the Hulk as he rears back, readying another punch. The glass isn't going to take much more. She has to intervene somehow. On impulse, she steps up to the reinforced Hulk-sized door and swipes her hand over the reader to open it. The reader beeps and flashes red but the door remains shut. It is, however, enough to get the Big Guy's attention. She looks through the fractured glass into his almost fluorescent green eyes, as he tries to reconcile her actions. He's not the only one as she feels Stark's quizzical expression aimed at her back as he hovers in her peripheral.

"What are you doing Red?" Tony questions out of the corner of his mouth.

"Open the door Stark," she orders, growing more confident in the idea by the second. "I'm going to talk to him."

"You're insane," he declares, making no move to comply with her order.

"We need to do something," she points out. Of all the team, he's the least leery of the Hulk and it's fitting, and irritating, that he chooses now to err on the side of caution. They have no idea how long it will take Thor to get to New York, but she doubts it will help in the long run if they keep trying to subdue the Big Guy whenever Bruce transforms; it's not a method which instils trust if they need to work together.

The Hulk eyes her warily through the glass, deciding if she's a threat. She focuses on his face, seeking out any sign of recognition, remembering what Bruce said about his intelligence and comprehension. Though recognition may not be in her best interest because there's no way of knowing if he'll associate her with the battle of New York even though she hardly spent any time with him till after they captured Loki, or if he'll remember her shooting a pipe above his head to distract him on the helicarrier. His keen concentration on her is a little perturbing, but she's faced this kind of scrutiny before and never back away from it.

He snarls, mouth sneering to show his teeth in warning, yet she refuses to be intimidated by it. Her determination underlined by her need to interact with him. Call it fascination, but she's been training herself for years for this meeting. Maybe it's her need to correct the mistakes she made the first time they met on the helicarrier, or maybe she's confronting him because she's still angry at Bruce for rejecting her and this will piss him off.

It takes the Hulk at least thirty seconds to process her defiance and she waits with bated breath till he backs up a few feet, a silent invitation. "Open the door," she repeats.

Tony mumbles something under his breath about insane, suicidal, and Bruce killing him for it, but reluctantly follows her command and overrides the lock on the door. It slides open.

She steps into the two-door locking system, pausing barefoot on the steel floor grate, she regrets forgoing shoes when she left her room in a hurry. The external door locks behind her and when the internal one remains shut, she shoots a glare at Stark over her shoulder.

"You never said anything about that door," Tony points out.

She knows he doesn't understand her logic, and part of her appreciates it, but right now he needs to stop underestimating her instincts. If anything, she's diverted the Hulks' attention from tearing the building apart.

"He's going to be the least of your problems if you don't open this door, Stark," Natasha threatens, pointing at the Hulk, drawing a snicker from Bruce's other half.

"Think about how Bruce will feel," the billionaire reminds her quietly, ignoring the Hulk as he reluctantly overrides the door lock and it opens with a swish.

"I am," Natasha replies gently, and steps through, knowing it will lock behind her.

A low growl greets her as the Hulk stomps in front of her, circling the space. She keeps her distance, trying to appear non-threatening by using smooth slow movements. Keeping her hands at her sides, her palms slightly showing to prove she isn't carrying anything, she angles her body to be visible to him so he can assess her. Her intention is to keep his attention not back him into a corner.

It's the first time she's entered the tank though she's peered through the observation window. Bigger than the tank Fury installed on the helicarrier, it roughly the same size as a large metal shipping container, giving him room to move and the Hulk's head is a couple of inches from the ceiling. Given his size it's difficult for her ignore his stature, his heaving pecs and defined abs. Her eyes flick up when she realises he's stopped moving and notices him frowning at her own chest. Her eyes drop down and reads her T-shirt upside down, ' _Co-founder of the Bruce Banner fan club'._ She sighs and looks up at the less-than jolly green giant. "Don't blame me for Stark's sense of humour, this is his idea of a joke."

Outside the tank Tony groans when she mentions him and the Hulk pins him with a glare. To be honest, she was surprised Stark hasn't called her on it already this morning. He shrugs apologetically, "Sorry Big Guy. Never thought she'd wear it."

"It was the first thing I grabbed, I wasn't going to come out here in just a tank top and shorts," Natasha defends, bringing the Hulk's attention back to her. "You woke me up Big Guy. Any chance you're going back to sleep anytime soon?"

"Try singing a lullaby, Red," Tony jokes from the lab and the Hulk glares again. "Am I the only one who appreciates my sense of humour?" He mumbles. "Bruce'd be laughing."

Large green fingers curl into a ball as the Hulk twists, focussing on the window again.

"Shut up Stark," Natasha orders sharply, regaining both of their attention. Once the Hulk unclenches his fist she continues to talk to Tony, "Give us a few minutes, he and I have a few things to discuss."

On cue the Hulk straightens his back at her words while Tony continues to argue with her.

"Yeah," Tony drawls. "That's not going to happen."

The Hulk backs her up with a growl, but Tony stays where he is. She's distracted rather than touched by the chivalrous defiance. She expects this crap from Rogers not him, but she's confident in her strategy and she itches to point out the Hulk could've hurt her by now if he was going to. "Stark," she presses quietly yet firmly, with a tone which no one dares argue with.

"I'm staying here."

No one argues with except Tony Stark.

Yet it seems to have given her some common ground with the Big Guy, and they glower at Tony simultaneously as she tries to figure out why the Hulk apparently wants her in the tank with him. After what seems like an age the billionaire lifts his hands in surrender and moves toward the other side of the lab to stand sentry beside the door. She silently wills him to keep his mouth shut.

For a long minute, the tank is filled with the sound of the Hulk's deep breathing as Natasha takes in the tanks' internal damage. She side-steps a light fixture hanging by a wire from the ceiling. On the floor by the torn shirt she spies some tools and thinks about collecting them but dismisses it, she doesn't want him to think she's picking up weapons.

Out of the corner of her eye she spies the small step stool Bruce must have been using in the tank the night before and sits on it calmly. She rests on the top rung, propping her feet on the bottom. Standing or moving around will only make him anxious, she needs him to focus on her in a situation which normally provoke his rage. Curious, the Hulk steps further away from the glass, keeping a careful distance from her as well, and resumes his pacing without meeting her gaze.

"You remember me, don't you?" His pace doesn't falter as he nods. "Yeah, I was the one you chased after the explosion on the Helicarrier. If that hadn't happened, Bruce and I were going to have an argument. We all were," she adds.

She and Bruce, Thor and Fury, Steve and Stark, each of them had grown tired of the power struggle which had been ongoing since they met earlier that day. They were ready to erupt when Clint lead Loki's minions to attack SHIELD's flagship. It's no wonder Bruce's alter ego focused on her when he awoke.

"But he and I are good now, you know that," Natasha continues unsure how verbal he is going to be during this conversation. She knows he spoke a few words to Loki, and he clearly understands her but he doesn't have to speak to communicate. He lifts an eyebrow. "Maybe 'good' is a stretch," she concedes. "I fully intend to apologise to him as soon as I can, for then and now" she points out meaningfully, smiling softly when he huffs, showing exactly what he thinks of that notion. "You and I both know Bruce is going to be pissed at me for coming in here," she tells him. Another nod.

"You and I are a lot alike Big Guy," Natasha starts. "People run away the moment they hear our name. No one gives us a chance because they're scared, but that suits us just fine, doesn't it?"

He stops with a grunt and it baffles Natasha; not a warning, not an agreement. She eyes him, looking for some clue in his expression, but finds none. While she would love to decipher the meaning so she can communicate easier with him, he's listening and that's all that matters. A cursory glance at Stark sees him still rooted to his spot by the door, watching their interaction intently. She ignores him because there's things she wants to say which she isn't ready to admit to Bruce yet, and definitely not in front of Tony, but his observation may finally dispel any notion she's trying to manipulate Bruce and his angrier half.

Not many know, or comprehend, the intricacies of her past. She isn't proud of it but she's learnt it and everything she's done and judging by his encouragement, for lack of a better description, she thinks the Hulk may understand it too.

"I have this ledger of everyone I killed. Every name," her voice thick and suddenly hoarse. She licks her lips quickly. She chances a look at him, and finds his concentration solely on her, his face rapt as he patiently waits for her. "There were times when I didn't know their names before I killed them, I searched for those after I joined SHIELD. It took a lot to earn their trust even after Barton recruited me, especially with my special set of skills." She almost laughs at the face he pulls at her, kind of like the expression Lila makes when Cooper tries to work through his math homework, so she explains, "There are people who think I have the potential to be as dangerous as you, I may be subtler but no less effective."

The Hulk growls softly and Natasha smirks, "This isn't a competition Big Guy."

His unruly eyebrow rises in challenge as he mirrors her smirk while hers evolves into a real smile at discovering his sense of humour, one she appreciates. She files away the knowledge in the back of her mind for later.

Natasha breathes in, taking a moment before broaching the pressing matter. "Look, we've been asked to help with the fight against HYDRA. They're intent on hurting a lot of people. Bruce is on the fence, guess I'm wondering where you stand."

He slowly turns to face her. She's taken aback by his slack expression, baffled by her offer. It's clear in his face no one gave _him_ the choice before, only Bruce. He's been disregarded by everyone, including Bruce, like she was by every one of her employers. Her body tightens and stomach coils at how they've both been used. While many people give in to the fight or flight reaction provoked by the anger she feels, she's learnt to channel it into something productive.

"It's a lot to ask when you've been treated with nothing except hostility stemming from fear and misunderstanding," Natasha continues using her own frustration as an incentive. "And I can't guarantee it'll change but there are people who see the world a little differently. Barton, for starters, could've taken me out when he found me but he didn't. He was the first person who had faith I could do something besides kill. I could've put up more of a fight, but I was furious because my life was a lie and I was torn between getting revenge or redemption. It wasn't an easy choice to make Big Guy," she pauses. "When I made it, it was hard to decide what equates to a human life, but a life for a life, right?" She shrugs. "Even that's open to interpretation; whether it's saving innocent bystanders or stopping a maniacal regime is the same thing no matter the questionable methods I employ," she eludes to the assassinations she was assigned by SHIELD, some of which she recently learnt were to benefit HYDRA. She presses on, ignoring the ache in her chest at that reminder.

"I've wiped out a lot of names from my ledger and I've barely made a dent. I didn't start it with the intention to give up before I finish."

He just stares at her and she wonders if it's too much for him, if he's confused by someone offering him a choice rather than force him into a corner. She wonders if Clint was this apprehensive when he was waiting for her decide whether or not to agree to SHIELD's terms.

"Do you want to help us again?" She clarifies for him. His oddly endearing, confused expression makes her heart hurt as he mulls over the question. She's asking him to trust them when he barely knows them. She's relying on how in tune he is with Bruce's feelings toward the rest of them. It's a huge request of someone who's never known anything but rage and violence. Eventually he nods carefully. "Then work with me to prove it to Bruce."

That provokes an angry growl and she jumps to Bruce's defence. "I know you're not happy with the idea of getting his permission, but you've got to understand he has to deal with the fallout too. I appreciate your smash style Big Guy but it's messy and the government likes to hold people accountable, Bruce is your fall guy. They don't see the difference between the two of you."

The Hulk doesn't seem impressed by that either, so she attempts to reason with him. "Let us help you prove them wrong," Natasha implores gently only for him to forlornly cast his gaze around the tank, battling with his fight or flight instincts. "You don't have to run away or rip this place apart Big Guy, we're not attacking you or Bruce. You know he feels safe here, he wouldn't be here if he didn't."

Natasha thinks back to when Bruce said something similar to her on the roof. He was so accepting of her, while failing to accept the Hulk as a part of himself. She feels indebted to the support and friendship he's offered her since her arrival and hopes brokering a tentative agreement between him and the Big Guy might go a long way to paying him back for it. She doesn't have long to dwell on her memories as the Hulk calmly sits down in the centre of the tank, his decision clear. She holds his curious gaze, feeling heartened by his choice. The sense of accomplishment is almost drugging as she fights the warmth threatening to spread across her face. Also, she feels privileged by the faith he's showing her and wonders if she'll be able to live up to it. Sliding from the stool to the floor, she sits with her legs folded in front of her and smirks at his silent question.

"You're not the only one I need to talk to," she replies meaningfully. The Hulk frowns defiantly. "No rush Big Guy. I'll wait, I like talking with you too."

"Natasha Romanoff, Hulk savant," Tony quips over the intercom, breaking the quiet moment. Opposite her, the Hulk bares his teeth through a tiny slit of his lips as she rolls her eyes. He calms at the tiny shake of her head, seemingly agreeing with her. "Fury would be proud, Red."

* * *

Bruce feels disoriented as he comes to in the tank for the second time that day and instinctively knows he's recovering from a transformation. With a pounding head and ringing in his ears, he lifts up into a sitting position. Glancing at his bare chest with a sigh, his eyes travel to his legs which are thankfully encased by the now stretched sweats he put on the night before. At least some of him is covered, but the cloth won't last long once he tries to stand. Wiping his eyes with his fingers he hears a discrete cough a few feet away and he pauses.

Slowly lifting his head and dropping his hand he sees Natasha sitting cross legged opposite him, watching his post-incident reaction.

With a neutral expression in place she says, "Sleeping beauty's awake."

For thirty seconds Bruce is confused until someone taps on the observation window and he looks up only to groan at the broken glass and Tony waving through it. "Hey Buddy, how're you feeling?"

"What did I do?" Bruce moans resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.

"Nothing," Natasha replies coolly with no warmth in her voice. " _He_ ," she inflects pointedly and Bruce braces himself for the information she's about to deliver. "Did nothing."

"Really?" He meets her green eyes with a flash of surprise and she returns his stare almost defiantly. Taking a furtively inventory of the tank, he frowns. Apart from the glass, there's a few hanging wires and dented walls but it appears intact. The only thing he can see out of place is Natasha. He redirects his frown at the red head; no one should have been able to enter the tank during an incident. He programmed the protocol into JARVIS himself, she shouldn't have been able to override the lockdown. "How did you get in here?"

"I asked Stark nicely," she answers in that cool tone which is beginning to irk him.

"By 'nicely' she means she didn't threaten to kill me, just implied it," Tony supplies from the other room.

Bruce sighs. Neither seem forthcoming with other details, but whereas Tony seems at least contrite, Natasha is annoyingly passive about the whole thing. He can't get a proper read on her, sitting there in a tee shirt only Tony would dare give her. He feels exposed vulnerable under her scrutiny, both of them under Tony's, in nothing but loose sweats. He looks up at the shattered window, "Can you get me some clothes?"

"What's a little nudity among friends?" Tony jokes with a waggle of his eyebrows. Bruce rolls his eyes but stops when he notices the joke doesn't elicit the same reaction from Natasha.

"Tony," Bruce rebukes.

"Do you have more hidden in here?" Tony asks fully aware Bruce is trying to get rid of him.

"No," Bruce lies. There's another bag in the supply closet, because he likes to be prepared, but he and Natasha need to talk alone. Tony looks between them and Bruce wonders once again what he's missing besides time during the incident.

"Don't say I never do anything for you," Tony says as he exits the lab reluctantly.

Then it's just the two of them and he meets her sharp stare. "Sorry," he breathes out.

"What for?" Natasha replies.

"I don't know, whatever happened when you were in here, whatever he did, what I did last night." He stops when her eyes glaze over. "It's my go-to reaction Natasha," he explains.

"You don't need to apologise for him, he was a perfect gentleman."

Bruce gestures at the tank. "You call this the behaviour of a perfect gentleman?"

"You should be proud Bruce, the tank held," she points out. He responds by looking doubtfully at the window. "At least long enough for us to distract and calm him."

"Calm? He's never calm," Bruce mutters darkly under his breath. He doesn't mean for Natasha to hear it but she does.

"You're wrong, he sat with me," she infers quietly and it's the first time he's heard the soft inflection in her slightly apologetic voice since he woke up. "He listened to me. You can watch it yourself once Stark cues up the footage."

"What did you talk to him about?" His natural curiosity wins out over chiding her for being reckless. He doubts she'd listen anyway, she seems to consider her strategy successful since the Hulk remained contained. Early on he learnt it was a bad idea to review CCTV of the Other Guy, it always made him cringe and more apprehensive watching him move. It's a surreal idea for him in his sleep-addled brain, it's hard to process the scene she's describing to him.

"I gave him a choice which no one else has," she boldly declares.

His head snaps up at that. "You went behind my back," he accuses, intuitively knowing the choice the Other Guy made. She doesn't deny it. "You undermined me."

Bruce feels his stomach churn at the thought.

"You're underestimating him," she defends calmly.

"I don't trust him and neither should you Natasha," he answers. "You had no right!"

Cinching the sweats at his waist he stands and begins to pace while Natasha stays where she is, undisturbed by his reaction.

"He deserves to know what's happening."

"I don't know what's happening," Bruce mumbles to himself; in his head, he's already halfway to the airport for the next flight to Peru but his rebellious feet seem determined to pace the tank. "What were you thinking?"

"He can help," Natasha replies calmly. "He wants to help."

"We tried to help in Harlem and it backfired spectacularly," he rebukes angrily.

"That was your call Bruce, not his, but you saved a lot more people than you know that day. You are both heroes."

"I'm not a hero."

Deceived by someone he trusted, Bruce was partly responsible for creating the Abomination. Without his blood, it wouldn't have existed. There was no way Ross and military stood a chance against the unhinged monster Blonsky transformed into. He had no choice but to transform into the Hulk, and they almost levelled Harlem in the ensuing battle. It was that encounter which pushed him to withdraw from society completely, isolating himself out of fear of someone betraying him again.

"A reluctant hero is still a hero. The difference between the two of you is he wants to be one."

"Why are you defending him?"

"I know what it feels like to be a tool in someone else's end game."

"And you're ready to jump right back in," he says bitterly. "Not everyone is like you Natasha, we don't all accept this life as a given." He doesn't dare look at her as he paces. He should stop but his pacing fuels his ire. "You keep telling me to stop thinking of you as an agent but it's been less than a month Natasha. You were forced to give up SHIELD and you can't keep claiming it was a choice because you never would have made it if it weren't for HYDRA. It gave you too much for you to walk away from it. No matter how nonchalant you pretend to be, it's affected you and you're still dealing with it. Before we stop thinking of you as an agent, you need to stop thinking of yourself as one."

He finishes his tirade at the far end of the tank facing away from her, deflating after his assignation of her character. He is out of line but he's incensed by the way she behaved. Natasha is fully aware of his reluctance and his reasons, and after getting to know one another, he never expected her to go back on her word the first time she had access to his angrier half.

He understands what it's like to be raised in an environment which shapes your foundation and perception of normal. He also knows what it feels like be lost and be desperate for something to hold on to, something solid, something to calm her in a world which doesn't. For Natasha, SHIELD was the flip side of the life she had been living, offering her redemption. In the last few weeks, she's been idle, waiting for something else to hang onto, and he wonders if she found it in her encounter with the Hulk and the possibility of turning him into one of the good guys as a way of continuing erasing her ledger. He's itching to know how the Other Guy encouraged this notion. She can't redeem either of them.

"You finished?" Natasha's low voice, void of emotion, cuts through his thoughts.

She's either deflecting or she's unfazed by his speech. It doesn't matter. What's said is said there's no going back on it. He nods, feeling rather than seeing her stand. She doesn't make a sound as she pads toward him. Before he knows it, she's standing beside him and her blush pink toenails enter his line of vision. He can't connect the image or the idea of her painting her toenails with the woman he's gotten to know, nor does he want it to distract him from the conversation they're having now.

"Why did you change? Were you testing the tank, do you remember?" She asks carefully.

Bruce isn't fooled by her easy words. It does however remind him of the flash of consciousness he had before transforming.

" _JARVIS, seal the tank."_

He woke as the process started but something else triggered it. _"Bruce,"_ her voice echoes in his mind making him raise his head to look at her and it takes a second for him to release she didn't say his name out loud. The rest of his nightmare continues to filter the longer he stares at her, which she never waivers under. Eventually he whispers, "'I swear on my life, I will get you out of this, you can walk away'."

Her eyes widen a fraction before she blinks at her words repeated back to her. She ducks her head before replying, "You remembered?"

"Yeah," he exhales. "You've said it a few times and you always seemed disappointed when I didn't realise what you were talking about. You still came in here after he did that," he says in awe.

"I saw an opportunity Bruce," Natasha explains with a shrug. "We need him to know he can trust us if there's an accident like the helicarrier. Showing him trust is easiest way to achieve that."

"Don't underestimate him," Bruce warns. "No matter how calm he was, the rage is always simmering under the surface."

"I think you're the one underestimating him. You never give him the benefit of the doubt, you only see the aftermath and never consider his reasons. Yes, it's a little overkill but it's also self-preservation."

"Self-preservation," he repeats. "Like pushing someone away because they're too close?"

"You thought I was manipulating you, guess I just proved you right," Natasha replies.

"Sort of, yeah, it crossed my mind Natasha," Bruce admits truthfully. "But it wasn't just that." He swallows, wondering how to explain his reasons. He glances at the window to check they're still alone. "I reconnected with Betty a few days before Harlem and we were…" he stumbles over appropriate words. "Kissing and I almost changed." He ducks his head, flushing at the memory.

"Changing is linked to my heartbeat," Bruce continues. "Because of his rage, people assumes it's triggered by anger and I let them because it's easier for me. I monitor my heart to prepare for a transformation but anything which induces a quicker heart rate can cause it; anger, fear, lust."

He swallows before meeting her eyes. "I'm more worried about hurting you than I am about you manipulating me."

"'It's not you, it's me'?" She questions. "Not exactly original Bruce."

"But it's the truth," Bruce insists. "I'm sorry for what I said before."

"No, you aren't. It was just another way of protecting yourself. You were right though, I do still think of myself as just an agent," Natasha admits.

"You're a lot more, Natasha," Bruce reassures her. Her lashes flutter but don't fully blink.

"Are you leaving?" She asks instead.

"I don't know," he replies honestly. Part of him wants to go straight for the bag in the closet before leaving through the nearest exit, but a low rumble in the back of his mind keeps him rooted to the spot. "But if I stay it'll be to work with the company's R and D department. I can't fight Natasha, I can't be involved when people are going to work with him without consulting me."

"I didn't plan anything Bruce, it was a spur of the moment decision to stop him from escaping," she protests. "Maybe I went too far by telling him about HYDRA but I think he sincerely wants to help. Whatever you decide I hope we can still be friends."

His lips curve up in relief and he finds himself trying to break the tension by quipping, "Who owes who dinner this time?"

Natasha has no opportunity to answer as Thor punctures the metal wall and lands in front of them, Mjolnir poised in his hand. Taking them in, he looks crestfallen, "Where is the Hulk?"

"That's a hell of a way to make an entrance Thor," Natasha seems mildly amused at the God.

"Um, the Code: Green has been dealt with," Bruce supplies while Thor looks a little deflated. "Don't look so disappointed Thor."

"It's a pity I have missed him," Thor replies, dropping his hammer to his side. "It has been a while since I have fought an opponent who challenges me as much as the Green Warrior."


	7. Chapter 7

14

 **Author Note – Thank you all for reading, hope you're all enjoying. Special thanks to my beta, Black Victor Cachat, who writes wonderful stories too.**

Rooftop Conversations - Chapter Seven

" _May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out." ―_ _J.R.R. Tolkien_ _,_ _The Fellowship of the Ring_

In the following days, Bruce practically barricades himself in his room, avoiding all common areas including his own lab. He doesn't want constant reminders of his latest incident. Tony took charge of the repairs for the Tank and, for once, respected Bruce's wish for privacy. Bruce suspects there's more to it than that but for now, he's more than willing to ignore Tony's schemes.

He didn't step foot out of his room till he was certain he wouldn't encounter anyone else in the corridors or living spaces. Specifically, Natasha. But this isn't really achievable till late at night, and even then, the former assassin had sporadic sleep patterns, she wanders about the Tower at all times.

Even though he's avoiding her, Bruce misses Natasha.

The woman who insisted he take her to dinner to apologise for almost killing her. The woman who kissed him in the rain. The woman who wants to have dinner with him again. The woman who barely bats an eye when he talks about hearing screams in his head, who understand what it's like to be afraid to sleep. The woman who put herself between his alter ego and the world and survived.

Several times he finds himself on the verge of crossing the hall to knock on her door to apologise for the things he said the other morning. He would've felt better if she railed back at him for attacking the job which saved her.

She hadn't.

Instead she met his anger with patience, denying him any kind of validation. She spoke succinctly with facts and understanding, as if she was expecting him to lash out. That made him feel worse. Yet instead of seeking her out to beg forgiveness, he wallowed in his guilt and denial; convincing himself he's just embarrassed about transforming, unwilling to discuss it or considering her offer of watching his counter-parts' actions during the incident in the Tank.

That's not a total delusion on his part.

He's in a quandary over Natasha's recent experience with the Hulk, completely the opposite of their first interaction. He's unable to reconcile the calmness Natasha insists she witnessed and viewing the footage will only baffle him more.

He reluctantly acknowledges his post-incident routine has been smoother, re-establishing his equilibrium faster than he normally does. The wave of confusion, which always occurs when he first wakes is something he likens to a hangover as he usually drifts in a haze as he figures out what happened while he transformed, cleared quicker than normal. He hasn't felt the need to fall back on his usual meditation techniques to realign his control. It's quieter in his head; the low growl, constantly reminding Bruce of the Hulk's presence, is quiet.

Bruce doesn't _miss_ it, but its absence is noticeable after having it in his mind for so many years. He reflects on it for hours without coming up with a reason for it, not one that satisfies him.

Without the state of the art equipment in his lab, Bruce resorts to research and computer simulations to fill his days. He's engrossed in Jane Foster's latest paper on wormholes and their links with other worlds, evidencing Asgard as an example, when his phone rings just before nine on the third night. He sets aside his laptop, pausing the soft music he was playing while reading - he's been playing a lot of Beethoven lately - and picks up the chiming device, sliding his thumb across the bottom of the screen to answer.

"Hi Tony," Bruce greets tiredly. He rubs his eyes with his free hand and he realises how exhausted he feels after doing next to nothing for a few days.

"It's time to stop hiding in your room Banner and hustle your backside to the lab," his friend replies without preamble. "I have something which will blow your mind," Tony enunciates the words dramatically.

"Does it have to be right away?" Bruce asks casting a longing look at the bright laptop screen. "I'm a bit busy."

"Doing what?" Comes the instant reply, less curious than indignant.

"Reading Jane Fosters' latest—"

"Thor can recite it to you verbatim later, and you can fangirl over his girlfriends' brilliance together," Tony cuts him off. Bruce chuckles under his breath. "Right now, I need you to fangirl over my brilliance, so drag your butt to the lab."

And there it is. Bruce feels his smile widen at the exuberance in his friends' voice. Tony isn't known for shying away from praise, not that it is ever unwarranted, but his standard for what he classes as scientific brilliance is the same as Bruce's. So, whatever it is, if he says it's good, it's good. Bruce's spirits lift as his interest is piqued by Tony's cryptic invitation-slash-demand of his presence.

There's always the chance it could be something utterly unexpected to catch Bruce off guard and draw him out of his self-imposed seclusion. Like the morning he walked into the lab only to find Tony in the space now used for the tank with coke bottles and Mentos set out in an elaborate cause and effect experiment. Tony was waiting for him to arrive before dropping the first Mentos into the first coke bottle.

Uttering a quick assent, Bruce is walking down the corridor toward the lab. He spies Tony waiting with his back to living room, talking in hushed tones into his phone. Bruce moves through the grand living room regardless, intent on giving Tony the attention he is demanding when he casually glances at the rooftop entrance to see a hooded figure huddled on a chair. Their feet rest of the seat edge, their knees drawn into their chest. Bruce falters a little as he notices the red wisps of hair peeking out from underneath the dark blue hood, waving in the night wind. He watches Natasha for a beat longer, wishing she would discover his observation so he can start a conversation with her.

She doesn't.

And his stomach lurches. He knows she can sense when she's being watched, it's imperative for her, and is fully aware of Bruce's presence and his watchful gaze. He's hit with a bout of indecisiveness. He wants to join her despite her posture and body language daring him to try. She looks so small against the backdrop of the night sky, her dark blue hoodie and black jeans almost blend into it. It would be easy to pass her by, failing to notice her, if he weren't so aware of her.

It's the reason he verbally attacked her. He hated the danger she put herself in. Bruce doesn't discount her abilities but she's fragile compared to him, smash-able even, and willingly made herself a target for the Hulk's fury if the situation turned sour. She is the opposite of the Hulk. Where he's robust, muscular and messy; she's petite, lithe and subtle. She had no weapons, none that he could see anyway – he knows she's fond of concealing them, nor was she wearing her suit for protection. Barefoot in just a cotton tee shirt and shorts, showing a lot of silky smooth skin which he steadfastly ignored after a hasty glance yet has haunted his thoughts while they left each other alone.

A low cough cuts through his perusal; a deeper, manly cough he can't pretend emanates from Natasha. He sighs quietly and lifts his head to face Tony who is watching him watch Natasha. Bruce can't decipher the slight shrug Tony gives him, nor does he give Tony enough time to draw attention to their surveillance and quickly closes the distance between himself and the staircase. He resists the urge to spare Natasha a fleeting glance while under Tony's scrutiny, wishing he were climbing through the access door to join her and salvage something from their friendship. If she were bothered by their presence she would have retreated to her room. He climbs the stairs swiftly, ignoring any hesitance he feels as he draws closer to the tank.

By the time he reaches the top, Tony is practically bouncing on his heels as he waits for Bruce to join him, eager to overlook the odd moment.

"You are going to love this buddy," he enthuses, giving Bruce no chance to ask about the repairs.

Tony fidgets with his clear hand-held controller again, tapping at the see-through interface. Bruce uses the opportunity to crane his head around the door to peer curiously into the tank. The gaping hole has been sealed with what he assumes will be a temporary metal patch, crudely welded to the interior wall. Bruce winces at the size of it. He may not have made the hole, but he feels responsible for Thor making it.

He doesn't have long to dwell on the rest of the Tank which looks undisturbed like the day Tony installed it as his friend draws his attention away from it. He's not saying anything yet but he's animated, more hyper than usual, but there's no whiff of alcohol on his breath. Bruce assumes, hopes, this is merely an adrenaline high from whatever he's been working on; Bruce is no stranger to it himself, after spending hours on a project without a break and pushing past his exhaustion point. His only worry is Tony's ability to censor his ideas and himself.

He's had no one to distract him or be a voice of reason to reign him in. Aside from Bruce's seclusion, Pepper's been in Malibu since before the incident with the Hulk. Bruce knows they're in contact daily, and she called to check he was okay, it's not like being in the same building. Bruce has a sneaking suspicion Tony's took advantage of his girlfriend's absence to fall back on his unhealthy work patterns; patterns often shared by Bruce.

"When did you last sleep?" Bruce asks out of interest with no intention to reprimand him; he doesn't care for being a hypocrite.

"I started working about thirty-six hours ago and I woke up a few hours before that," Tony replies without an ounce of shame or fear of being ratted out. Bruce will keep his secret. For now. "I wasn't really sure of all the details, I need your input on some of those, but I think I've got a solution to our, or should I say your, problem."

Bruce's ears perked up. "My problem? What problem?" He stammers, his mind correcting 'what' for 'which'. There are several he can come up with.

"The certain green issue that's been plaguing you," Tony steps back with a flourish of his arms just as a blue hologram appears in the centre of the room. "Ta-da."

Automatically Bruce steps forward to examine the 3-D image of what seems to be an overly bulky Iron Man suit. His face pulls into a frown, his eyes hardening as he slips his glasses on to examine the finer details; a thicker helmet designed to withstand a forceful impact while securing and encasing a regular sized suit; huge arms with one sleeve which drops down to act as a handcuff and a piston puncher on the other; sturdy legs each with an arc reactor embedded in the knee joints to power clamps in the feet which would anchor the suit to the ground if need be.

The hologram provides no measurements, and he can only guess the size given Tony is showing it to him. His lips set into a grim line. Whereas normal sized suits only require one arc reactor and is capable of taking on terrorists and was instrumental in combating the Chitauri, this supersized suit appears to be powered by several arc reactors which will generate an enormous amount of energy coupled with the heavy-duty weaponry this suit is a force to be reckoned with. "What is this?"

"It's my Hulkbuster suit," Tony announces. "I took the liberty of naming her Veronica."

Bruce groans; not just because of Tony's joke, though Bruce has no doubt he really has dubbed the new suit Veronica, but because of his daring fearlessness to create a suit to take down the Hulk. Tony's out done himself. Bruce has to give him credit for the design and the engineering involved alone fascinates him; even if he weren't the one this suit was designed to stop, Bruce would admire it. It's not his speciality yet he knows enough to envy Tony's process and skills. He's watched him pour over the designs, rigorously testing till the flaws are corrected. Tony's considered most aspects of fighting the Hulk; force, power, impact. The size means the suit can absorb physical impact with gel for greater shock resistance, or cushioning, like the large spaces in cars for the engine in case of an impact, decreasing risk to the pilot. The normal suits are durable, toughened shells, and Bruce expects this to be same. The sheer thought process which has gone into this project makes it easy for Bruce to momentarily overlook the recklessness involved in the strategy behind it.

"What do you think? I've got the rest of the designs here," Tony eagerly pushes him when he gives no other response.

The hologram shifts to a blueprint, this time with measurements as well as an itemised list of weapons.

The image shifts again to show a metal panels moving together to form a blunt pyramid, sealing together with an electrical charge, sort of like a mobile container.

"What this?" Bruce asks instead, entranced by the ideas playing out in front of him.

"It's a cage which we can use to hold the Hulk, made from the same material as the Tank, no glass to punch through though. Not that the Tank was holding him, he would've gotten out if Romanoff hadn't drawn his attention. But I thought this could contain him long enough for us to calm him down or distract him," Tony rattles off.

Bruce nods slowly, his mind noting a few details he can see in the plans to work on. He doesn't want to be a dampener on his friend's enthusiasm about the flaw in his plan; containing the Other Guy will only piss him off more than he already is.

"I thought we could use it to administer an air-born sedative to calm him down. Injection is out of the question considering he's bulletproof," Tony makes a face. "How do you feel about that?"

"I can see your logic; what kind of sedative were you thinking of? It'd have to be powerful," Bruce muses.

"Bio-mechanics is your thing, so I'm not sure where to start developing it. You developed that heart-rate suppressant. I'm wondering if that would be a good starting point. SHIELD agents were using it to fake death in the field for easier extraction."

Bruce nods along with Tony's reasoning. He'd been developing it for personal use for when he felt a transformation start but he hasn't had the chance to test it on himself in that situation. He never thought of using it once he was transformed. "What about the team or bystanders when it's administered? They'll be affected by the sedatives."

"Hence the cage," Tony sounds triumphant. "It'll be contained and he'll be in a concentrated atmosphere. It shouldn't make much difference to the Hulk, just enough to make him groggy. We can move him to somewhere familiar and hopefully change back in the mean."

Bruce falls silent again, thinking of the amount of testing they would need to do. On the suit, on the cage, on the Hulk. Putting him through this would backfire.

Badly.

It would fracture the tenuous trust the Hulk put in them the first time they fought together. He may have saved Tony but it's a fragile alliance which could be broken easily if the Hulk sees this as a betrayal of his trust.

Clearly uncomfortable with Bruce's lack of response, Tony starts again, "I know it's not like Romanoff's Jedi mind tricks—"

"What do you mean?" Bruce's head snaps up at the second mention of Natasha.

The billionaires' eyes hardened, narrowing a fraction as he gestures to the tank as if to jog Bruce's memory. "She managed to work the Big Guy like she'd been doing it her entire life."

Instead of commenting, Bruce cocks his head inquisitively.

"She definitely got the Big Guy's attention when she wanted it," Tony elaborates.

"It's not that hard Tony," Bruce points out.

" _And_ she lived to tell the tale," Tony counters without missing a beat.

In his room, Bruce reflected a lot on the mini-tirade he aimed at her. Ultimately, he put it down to his inability to trust anyone interested with the Other Guy, but after a while he was able to see the situation from her point of view. If he escaped, the Hulk would have torn the Tower apart, and Bruce envisioned himself waking to newspaper covers of his alter ego clinging to the side of the building like that iconic King Kong film. Natasha had needed a swift resolution with the least amount of damage; he appreciates her quick thinking, but would rather she didn't lock herself in a room with the Other Guy. The Hulk is too unpredictable and that situation is too dangerous, and potentially suicidal in his opinion. It's not an interrogation where she's the most lethal person in the room; she's locked in with the Hulk, not the other way around.

"Have you talked to her?" Tony asks somewhat guardedly.

"No," Bruce admits ashamed of the answer. Despite his concerted effort to avoid social interaction, their rooms were opposite one another, he hasn't heard anything from her side of the hall. Not that unusual, but right now it's disheartening.

"Not surprising. No one would know anyone else lived here with you two sulking in your rooms. Or on the roof," Tony adds with a light cough.

"I thought the privacy settings prevented you from knowing where we are. How do you know if she is in her room?" Bruce grumbles, ignoring the jibe at their habit of meeting on the roof.

"I was curious so I had JARVIS check for safety reasons," Tony smirks. "According to him, she migrates between her room and the gym, avoiding any route which leads out to the roof or the lab. Unless she's messing with his programming, which I don't doubt she could, but I can't detect any tampering. Honestly, if I had to guess who would bolt after the Widow-Hulk stare-down I'd put my money on you." He claps his hand on Bruce's shoulder as if in congratulations. "You're the flight risk, not our resident assassin."

"Got to hand it to her though, Reds' technique certainly was effective at calming him down," Tony adds breaking, through his thoughts.

Bruce smothers his reaction to Tony's nickname for Natasha and the admiration he hears in his friend's tone. There's a distinction, Bruce realised; Tony uses the nickname, dare he say, affectionate, when teasing. He only refers to Natasha by her surname when he doesn't approve of her actions. "You think she did the right thing," Bruce says. He wants someone else's opinion.

"I can see why you'd be pissed about it but I don't think she had an ulterior motive. If Fury were still here, I'd have a different answer. He kept tabs on all of us for years before making any contact with the team. He could have gone after you several times, what if he tried to test your limits without you realising it?" Tony doesn't give Bruce time to answer. "He knew us inside and out; character profiles, detailed history, surveillance records, how to recruit, and ways of neutralising us if necessary. You, or the Hulk rather, would've stumped him. I mean, all he came up with a glass cage he was going to drop from a great height and hope for the best."

Tony pauses and Bruce frowns. Tony rarely pauses. He usually fills any silence with high-paced rambling of whatever subject he was discussing, to exhibit his vast amount of knowledge to cover any pause. But right now, Bruce can literally see his mind working through the quick subtle changes in his expression, a slight grimace before he sighs then sparing a glance at Bruce as though he was deciding if this is the right moment to share his thoughts; something he never did. Especially with Bruce. Even if people didn't like what Tony thought, he was upfront and dealt with the backlash by defending his reasoning.

"Romanoff was his protégé, and after witnessing what I did the other day, I wonder whether she tried to figure out a way to work with your angrier half to get Fury's approval. Imagine if they triumphed where the military failed with the Hulk."

"You think they planned to train him to react to her," Bruce infers.

"In their best-case scenario - yes, and as we all know, there's a huge margin for error," Tony shrugs. "But SHIELD isn't pulling her strings anymore; I think she's been put through the ringer as much as any of us, probably more. I mean after everything that's come out recently, any one of them could be HYDRA and I think we're lucky they aren't. The idea of a Hulk handler has merit and it looked effortless from where I was standing. You tried all of the alternatives Bruce and they didn't work," he tacks on carefully.

Bruce looks away. It's hard to trust anyone who wants anything to do with his other half. He has to admit even though Fury had his secrets, he seemed upfront with his intentions. Natasha trusted him and Bruce has grown to value her and her opinion. She's been open with him in the past about whether Fury asked her to manipulate him, and what she would do if he ever asked. He appreciates her honesty even if he doesn't like her answer.

"If you're open to that idea, great. Less bruises for all of us, but I wanted to offer you an alternative to Red's chit chat with a fail-safe if that doesn't work," Then his demeanour changes as he points back to the blueprints hovering in front of them. "I'm not saying bigger is better, but size matters," he smirks at Bruce and waits for his eye roll before continuing. "This packs a punch which exceeds the Hulks."

"What calculations are you basing that assumption upon?"

"JARVIS measured the force when he was trying to get out of the tank."

"Just because you can hit as hard as he can, doesn't mean it'll knock him out. What's your intention? Fight and subdue? Wear him out?" Bruce has a lot of questions ready for him, something they do to each other when they start any new project to clear up any details in preliminary planning. Despite this, he doesn't want to bombard Tony yet because he needs to comprehend the concept.

"It's not ideal, but you've tried everything else, so why not this?" He presses without his usual aggression.

"You just want to go toe-to-toe with him," Bruce jokes to take the edge off Tony's sincerity.

Tony huffs out a laugh. "The idea does appeal to my adrenaline junkie side, which I've been trying to explore."

He waits for Bruce to give his input, but he's not forthcoming right now.

"I didn't want to start building anything till I knew you were on board," he continues when Bruce remains silent, seeking his approval and consent. "Say the word and we can work on the design till you're satisfied, and put the prototype through whatever tests you want till it's ready for the field. It'll be a joint project."

Bruce licks his lips. "I appreciate the gesture Tony," he starts, ignoring the fact that his solution involves enabling his obsession with suits. He's not sure he approves of anything which will tempt his friend to spiral out of control once again. "But I don't think either method will be necessary as I, _he,_ won't be fighting. I'm not risking either you or Natasha in that respect. Also think about Pepper, how would she feel? Wearing a suit to take on HYDRA is one thing, making one to fight the Hulk is another."

If Tony's disappointed by Bruce's rebuttal, he doesn't show it. "I'll talk to Pepper," he promises. "But what about incidents you can't control, like the other day?" He poses the question and Bruce refuses to answer him.

The other day was unprecedented, as if the Other Guy wanted to make his presence known, a small reminder despite the happiness Bruce has been experiencing lately.

"This could also work as a solution to your other problem."

Bruce looks up sharply in askance, his brow drawing together as he tries to follow Tony's train of thought. Thankfully Tony takes pity on his overwhelmed brain.

"You're not comfortable with the idea of being in the field, but we might need the power the Hulk provides; flipping tanks and smashing through walls isn't easy for us mere mortals. This," he points at the hologram. "Can do that instead of you and you won't have to go anywhere near a fight if you don't want to."

"A suit this size would still endanger civilians with flying debris; the rest of the team would have to coordinate around it to minimalize the risk. They won't be able to protect the public from you and HYDRA, they'll be exposing themselves to attack." He points out the body. "You can't even control it remotely. Imagine if you're in a simulator and the link fails, the suit would collapse wherever it is and there's no way to stop it. That amount of metal would crush someone."

Bruce exhales quietly, bowing his head as he stares at the diagram. Contemplates the yearning he feels bubbling inside of him. It's a nice gesture, with idealistic thinking behind it. He suspects this is the underlying reason for _Veronica_. His throat catches and he breathes through it. It's an incredible gift; providing him with an alternative from wading into a war, causing unknown amounts of collateral damage. At least Tony will be in his right mind when piloting the suit. The least Bruce can do is help ensure he's safe doing it.

Bruce moves to the work bench at the side of the room, looking away from the blue holograms and the tiny flare of hope they offer. Tony's 'gift' is like a double-edged blade cutting through any potential solution for him. Bruce is grateful for the work he's putting into it, but at its' core is another suit, a more fragile suit, containing his closest friend.

Tony isn't a fighter.

Bruce isn't either. The Hulk fights for him.

Tony works out, he keeps fit, trains with Happy but it's not the same as a hand to hand combat. He's not used to the strategy involved, not like someone like Steve or Natasha who have the training and predisposition. Any fight against the Hulk will be intense and overblown; not just in scale due to the size of the fighters but Bruce's alter ego knows how to fight, it's one of his core instincts, and he catches experienced opponents off guard.

Tony's a genius but his brain works differently from the Hulks'. He's thinking of this experience like a scientist and the Hulk will be three steps, or in this case punches, ahead. In the suits, he relies on weapons and thrusters to help him along with JARVIS talking through probabilities as a situation evolves. The Hulk's stamina will wear him down eventually. Tony's stubborn and tenacious enough to keep the fight going as long as he can, yet that'll just escalate the situation, prolonging and sustaining unnecessary pain and damage.

Bruce doesn't doubt his tenacity; Tony is capable of incredible things in and out of the suits. He's taken on terrorists, several times over, flown a nuke through a wormhole, and helped coordinate a battle against an alien army. So, while his judgement of Tony's skills seems harsh, as if looking for reasons not to pit him against the Hulk, it's because he doesn't want to hurt his friend or worse, returning to a life of isolation from the new one he's become fond of. He is Bruce's best friend, probably the best one he's ever had. Bruce would like to keep it that way. Their friendship doesn't hinge on the Hulk. Tony's intrigued on a scientific level, but the Other Guy isn't his primary interest.

That's just considering the damage to Tony; Bruce is fully aware of how much ground the Hulk can cover in a fight, the surrounding areas will have to weather the consequences as well. Harlem was torn up when he confronted the Abomination, endangering lives and most likely destroying some of their livelihoods. In an ideal world, anything like this could only happen in an isolated area with lots of space so the collateral damage is kept to a minimum.

That's not to mention Tony's PTSD. This could all be a reaction to the Hulk being on the cusp of destroying his new home months after the Malibu one was destroyed by the Mandarin. Working on the repairs by himself and drawing up plans for a new suit in three days points at a relapse, especially with Pepper unable to come home after the incident. As the thought occurs to Bruce, he immediately regrets wallowing in self-pity, and not checking on his friend sooner.

"Tony," he says but it sounds like a question. It is. His tone is loaded; apologetic, soothing, prompting and reproachful. If Tony has relapsed because of him, he'll be out of New York within an hour. He doesn't say anything else, he doesn't need to.

"I'm okay," Tony assures him, catching on immediately. "I'd just finished repairing the Tank and it was late. I was missing Pepper and needed a distraction," he admits tiredly.

"By designing a new suit?" Bruce asks. "How long did this take you?"

"Not that long," he shrugs dismissively. "And you say new but it isn't that difficult after mark forty-two," Tony comments with raised eyebrows. "It's just tinkering on an existing model, this is mostly scaling up."

"You need better shock resistance in the helmet," Bruce informs him dryly. "All of them because you're clearly out of your mind."

"You're laughing now Banner, but you might have a point," he fires back with a smirk before growing serious. "This isn't a cry for help, this isn't about me Bruce, I promise. I'm trying to help and this is the only way I know how."

"I know," Bruce replies, longingly looking at the hologram. He sighs.

"I'm not trying to influence you, we could test it in an isolated location against Thor. I've got a couple of empty warehouses upstate, we could make a weekend of it with the rest of the team. Fighting the Chitauri was fun and all, but it was a little spontaneous even for me. This would give us a chance to train together before HYDRA decide to come after us." Tony groans, "Ugh, I'm starting to sound like Capsicle, kill me now."

Bruce breathes out a chuckle and shakes his head.

"So, it's a no?" Tony double checks.

"The Avengers are supposed to engender hope against HYDRA, not generate fear and doubt. I'm grateful for the effort Tony, I am," Bruce replies gently.

"I know you are, even if you're unwilling to test it as a solution," Tony assures him without reproach. "Even though I would love to know who the victor would be in the showdown between the Hulk and the Hulkbuster, I'm happily planning my retirement from the Avengers after we stop HYDRA and find the Sceptre."

Bruce chuckles, relief flooding through him at the honesty in Tony's eyes. "I wish you all the happiness."

"Don't know about that," the billionaire scratches the back of his head tiredly. "Pepper deserves more; a happily ever after. I'm not scared of what that means, I'm just not sure if I can maintain the illusion."

"I have every confidence in you," Bruce says to belay his fears despite knowing Tony won't be convinced by platitudes. "She loves you Tony. When are you going to accept that you make her happy?"

"When I stop screwing up," Tony offers. "So, never?" He jokes to cover his nerves with this topic. "I don't think she wants the whole 'picket fence' package, yet definitely a ring at some stage," he rambles on, thinking out loud rather than speaking to Bruce, who knows better than to interrupt him when he's talking through a subject which has taken years for him to come to terms with.

Bruce feels privileged to witness, up close and from a far, the changes Tony had gone through in the last few years, from billionaire playboy to a man who is trying to be a responsible adult. Maybe not all the time, he'd lose something which was quintessentially 'Tony' if he did. Pepper brings out the best in him, makes him want to be better.

" _I_ want her to have a ring," Tony admits lifting his head and directly addressing Bruce this time. He scrunches his nose. "We'll have to debate any offspring."

"Why?" Bruce can't help chuckling. "You'd enjoy the conception."

"I'm _very_ fond of the conception part," he winks. "I'm just not sure what to do once babies arrive, they're kind of delicate and you know I don't like being handed things. Can you imagine the delivery when the nurse tries to hand me the baby?" He visibly shivers.

"For what it's worth, I think you're more than capable to reproduce," Bruce jokes. "It's surprising you haven't already accomplished it with your youthful indiscretions."

"A minor miracle," Tony winks. "But I'm also ready to metaphorically trim this branch of the Stark family tree, do I really want to put my kid growing up with me as a father?" He questions rhetorically and Bruce assumes he's joking but hears the doubt in his voice. "I realise now that I should've made it clear that my debate will be an internal one with myself, not Pepper."

"You would learn from his downfalls Tony," Bruce points out. Neither had the best example growing up. His father killed his mother in a rage. Howard Stark worked endlessly for what he considered the 'greater good', hoping his son would follow in his footsteps only to push him away by putting Tony second to his work. It all fell into place in the last few years but it took his abduction and a lot of mistakes for Tony to turn his life around. "What does Pepper think about it?"

Tony's about to reply when he's interrupted by a voice from the doorway. "Is that another suit?" Pepper asks.

Bruce winces at her unhappy tone and chances a look at the strawberry blonde only to notice Natasha peering curiously at the scene over her shoulder. Neither woman look pleased with what they see, and he wonders how long they've been standing there. It must have only been a few seconds; surely Pepper wouldn't be angry if she heard Tony describing retirement and his insecurities.

In contrast to Bruce's observation, Tony jumps into action by putting himself between Pepper and the hologram, opening his arms as if expecting a hug from his beloved on her return.

"A hypothetical one, Honey," he promises as she side-steps his approach to get a closer look at the hovering image. "A heads up would be nice next time JARVIS, I thought we talked about the greeting protocol after the incident with the builders," he says to the AI.

"Miss Potts is a resident and requested the opportunity to surprise you sir."

Her face says it all. Flush with anger, steely eyes sweep over the design as she draws in a sharp breath before turning her accusation to Tony, "The prototypes for the Iron Legion are about to go into production, and you're designing a new suit. We agreed to talk before anything else happened."

"And we would, but we don't have to because I'm not making the suit," Tony says gently, following her back to the hologram.

She exhales with a shake of her head and takes half a step to avoid any contact. She glowers at the image, and it's the first time Bruce sees cracks in her serene aura. Bruce steps back, hoping to blend into the background, be as invisible as possible, but her attention is clearly on Tony only.

"Then why do you have a blueprint?"

"Um, it was an ill-timed present for Bruce," Tony says, a little glib for the situation and Pepper.

And Bruce.

He never asked for this, but he never did anything to discourage Tony either and he doubts Pepper will welcome his suggestions for shock absorbers in the helmet, whether he was joking or not. But he doesn't want to be the cause of any tension between the couple.

"This isn't about Bruce," Pepper argues before Bruce can say anything. "It's about you and your obsession with the suits. I knew you wouldn't be able to stop," she seethes, breathing heavily. Her chest heaves deeply and Bruce is reminded of when he's transforming.

Though she hasn't exhibited any residual side effects from Extremis for months, no one really knows how it's affected her body at its core. Her cheeks brighten from flushing pink to red and he half expects to see flickers of orange and yellow to appear under her skin and embers to light up her eyes. They don't appear as Tony gently touches her arms and steers her away from the hologram as it flickers away. As Tony guides her to the side of the room to give them some privacy, Bruce notices the temperature drop in the lab – a feature Tony installed while she was healing and prone to intermittent hot flares linked to her temperament and when JARVIS determined Tony was being an ass, which is a regular occurrence.

Tony and Pepper welcomed him with open arms, and he doesn't want to repay them by destroying everything they have. They would defend him and the Hulk to the media, the government and the public, all of whom are waiting for him to slip. Despite the fear and outcry at his presence in New York, Bruce is back in the scientific world he loves thanks to the help Tony offered him. He isn't shunned by it anymore, in fact most of it comes to him and not because he's the Hulk. He'll be forever in their debt for accepting him.

And despite the recent threats from HYDRA and his most recent incident, they've supported him again. Pepper would have returned immediately if she was worried about his presence and Tony would have evicted him if he was concerned for Pepper's safety. Instead, Pepper called via JARVIS to check on him and Tony repaired the damage and designed a solution without mentioning it.

Deciding this is between them, Bruce discreetly tries to tiptoe toward the door and Natasha who is keenly watching him. He has no other option, there's no other exit. His heart beat jumps but he recovers quickly and continues to approach her.

Unfortunately for him, Pepper foils his otherwise stealthy exit. "I don't want to turf you out of your lab Bruce," she apologises without any trace of the fury she directed at Tony moments ago.

"You two need some time," he assures with a wave of his hand as he reaches the doorway where Natasha is waiting.

"Thanks Buddy," Tony replies, his gratitude clear.

Then Bruce leaves Tony to offer his apology while he endeavours to give his own. He and Natasha appraise each other silently as he steps out of the lab onto the small metal landing at the top of the stairs. The door slides shut behind him as Pepper utters words he never expected to hear from her, "I've worn a suit myself, Tony, I know the rush you get from being in one."

"You know it's more than that," Tony argues.

Bruce turns his head out of interest, listening to the muted conversation.

"I do," she replies simply. "It's easy to miss the adrenaline from being in those situations, it's addictive. You remember how I was after fighting Aldrich Killian; it was hard to accept and adapt, even though my exposure was relatively short." She pauses. "I understand why you readily put them on: it's thrilling."

At Pepper's words, Natasha's hand touches Bruce's wrist and their eyes meet for a beat. The bright green overshadowed by the way the lights hang. Her hood has been lowered since he saw her on the roof, fifteen…twenty minutes ago; he's lost track of time he spent talking to Tony. Her vibrant hair peeks out from under the hood and she still looks as lonely as she had. He wills he to say something to break the spell but he knows they're too close to Tony and Pepper for her liking. Her fingers feel cold on his skin and he supresses as shiver. His heart lifts when her mouth twitches in a that coy way of hers as she blinks before her fingers shift to tug on his sleeve and lead him away from the couple. Her hand drops away as soon as his feet move to follow her down the stairs. She turns her head once she reaches the bottom to talk to him over her shoulder.

"Do you want to get some air?" Natasha nods in the direction of the rooftop door, her legs already moving toward it without his waiting for his answer.

He thinks about offering a swift apology and retiring to his room, but the air in there is stuffy and smothering. They've spent so many evenings out there together, and Bruce misses the comradeship they forged. Simply, he misses her presence. But he's not ready to ponder its significance yet, not ready to label it for fear of misinterpretation and appearing vulnerable.

She passes through the door easily while he hovers just inside, watching her assess whether she stands or sits in the chairs. Standing offers a better view of the city, the night sky lit up by lights from uncovered windows, a pleasing distraction if either of them chicken out of resolving their last conversation.

"We could go halves," Natasha says as she takes her place at the railing.

It takes him a beat to figure out what she's talking about. "Dinner?" Bruce clarifies and she nods. He chuckles in spite of himself and steps over the threshold to take his place beside her. "Are you hungry? We could order in," he suggests lightly.

"Maybe later," Natasha answers, folding her arms over her midsection and looks away from him.

"I shouldn't have said what I did the other day. You're still adjusting and I attacked everything you've relied on since you reformed. You lost a close friend," he continues thinking of what Tony said about her relationship with Fury.

"Bruce," she says with a flash of her eyes to stop him. She blinks and quickly looks away to cover her grief and he's confused by the uncharacteristic response. He hasn't seen her react to the mention of Fury since she moved into the Tower.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I know," she exhales. "You say you hate violence, except when it comes to subduing the Big Guy."

"This is about the Hulkbuster?"

She arches an eyebrow at the code name but says nothing.

"He's not going to make the suit Natasha," Bruce tells her.

"Of course he will, he's Stark," she retorts sarcastically with an eye roll at Bruce and his naiveté. "How does the Hulk react to being attacked? Tony is going to be in the middle of that suit, he won't use a remote-control Bruce. How will you feel if the Hulk rips it and Tony apart?"

"You don't think I realise that? It's why I said no," Bruce answers defensively, the images her words conjure make him wince. "Why does it bother you?" he asks with her silent treatment.

"Because it's unnecessary when he responds to alternative methods," Natasha explains, less harshly than before.

"How do you think I would feel if he ripped you apart?" Bruce asks sharply. "Neither are necessary, and by necessary, I mean they are too unsafe and unlikely to work. I'm not going to put either of you in danger because of me," he replies quickly with a shake of his head. It was Tony's way of making him feel welcome after the other day, make him feel safe. "I just need to work on my control Natasha."

Prior to moving back to New York, his control was fine. It'd been over a year since he last transformed when she came to retrieve him and he was relieved with the progress he'd made. After Harlem he almost gave up hope of ever being able to maintain a grasp of himself in everyday situations. He'd started to interact with civilisation and work with the sick; it felt good to help people daily.

He's still in control. He's relaxed.

Sort of.

There's the underlying pressure he feels from the impending threat from HYDRA, it's reinforced with the other's anxiety over it. They may not talk about it or express it like he does but it's evident, he feels it coming off them in waves. They're all ready for battle, even Tony who's still on the fence about fighting but is co-ordinating support for the others, and he doesn't want to risk them by wading in with them.

He should leave before he changes again. Only he can't bring himself to leave. Not because he's worried they'll think he's turning his back on them but because they'll understand why and that's worse. So, the only thing he can do is work on his control. He's not sure exactly how it'll work in unexpected scenarios. Maybe he could get Tony to take him to that secluded warehouse and run some simulations on his control; Bruce wouldn't be able to have any prior knowledge of course, for fear of tainting the experiments. Tony would have a field day devising the situations.

"You like Starks' idea," she observes.

"I like the engineering involved; I'm a scientist Natasha, I appreciate the work he puts into the suits." He pauses, taking a breath to stop their argument from escalating. "He was offering me a way to cope, a way to stay after the other day without fear of ripping the Tower apart," Bruce adds, calmer after his quick pause.

Bruce enjoys the life he's built here.

He's content.

For the first time in years.

It's why he's reluctant to leave.

He's living with his alter ego rather than hiding him away. There's a glimmer of hope. There's a niggle of doubt it'll ever come to more than that, but there's a sliver of light.

Not just from Tony and Pepper there are others who have readily accepted him: Steve and Clint. Thor seems fonder of the Hulk than him, but Bruce supposes that's due to his warrior side and still counts his friendship. Then there's Natasha.

The woman who insisted he take her to dinner to apologise for almost killing her. The woman who kissed him in the rain. The woman who wants to have dinner with him again. The woman who barely bats an eye when he talks about hearing screams in his head, who understand what it's like to be afraid to sleep. The woman who put herself between his alter ego and the world, and survived.

"I trust you," he almost whispers, surprising himself and Natasha, who's looking at him like it's the last thing she expected him to say. It's the last thing _he_ expected to say. "It's just difficult for me to accept anyone who works with him so easily."

"I wouldn't say it was easy Bruce," Natasha points out, her voice as gentle as his without trying to provoke an argument.

"Tony described it as effortless," he says softly, watching her face as she looks down. If he didn't know better, he would say a rose blush starts to creep into her cheeks. He blinks to check his eyes and it's gone.

"I went with my instincts," she says and worries her lower lip with her teeth. "I never expected him to recognise me and if he did, I never expected him to listen to me."

"But he did," Bruce assures her and is reminded of his gratitude toward her despite his reservations. "Thank you for stopping him. I don't have to walk away from my life that I like, with friends I like."

Like Tony. Like her.

His gaze drifts over her face as she stares back at him, as if she can hear his thoughts. Her bright green eyes soften as she utters, "We need to stop over thinking things Doc."

 **Anyone else thinking things? Let me know either by review or my PM's are always open**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author Note – slightly quicker than normal update (although this one was still delayed by a broken charger). Thanks to my wonderful beta Black Victor Cachat.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter eight

" _In a fight, your doubt is a target of enemy's attack." ―_ _Toba Beta_ _,_ _Betelgeuse Incident: Insiden Bait Al-Jauza_

"You're nervous," Natasha says as she sits with her leg dangling on the other side of the railing, utterly nonchalant about sitting on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city.

"Wouldn't you be?" Bruce eyes her precarious position warily with only the slightest envy, wondering how she perches there with an air of confidence. She makes a show of considering his question then shrugs. And digs into her box of takeout with her chopsticks. He looks away before she raises the loaded bite to her mouth. "Thanks for your support," he deadpans as he contemplates his own meal of noodles, chicken and vegetables.

"If you want to get out of this, go to Cap," she shoots back once she swallows.

That option seems worse than the fate he volunteered for less than two hours ago. Hill had been briefing them on the latest intel from the fringe SHIELD agents she has contact with. They tracked some of the stolen weapons to a former SHIELD warehouse which is now heavily guarded by alleged HYDRA agents.

Hill strongly advised-slash-ordered them to check out an abandoned warehouse district for any of the missing weapons stolen from SHIELD's most secure facility, the Fridge. Her insistence based on credible information acquired by a supposedly loyal SHIELD agent, who claims they had been coerced into working for HYDRA, and decided take it upon themselves to work as a double agent. Hill doesn't believe they've kept them all together; it's been suggested they distributed the stolen bounty to various outposts, depending on whatever part they play in HYDRA's grand scheme. There's been no word on the Sceptre Loki used anywhere in the intel but there could be more information which could eventually lead them to it.

Once all of the details for the mission were hashed out, they had a plan: Steve, Tony and Thor would launch an attack from the ground, drawing attention away from Natasha as she sneaks through one of the less manned access points to raid the supposed weapons vault which had been located on the blueprints Hill presented. Located in the middle of nowhere, three large warehouses sat on a plot of a couple of acres with a few smaller outbuildings. With nothing but sandy terrain for miles around, the risk of any collateral damage is minimal. Of course, that also meant HYDRA would easily spot their approach and the Avengers would be on the defensive from the start. Tony also proposed debuting the Iron Legion prototypes to assist with containing any HYDRA operatives who try to escape. A proposal which was met by Hill's counter query of who would monitor them while everyone else is occupied, especially since it would be their first time in the field.

With herself unable to do it as she needed to keep up the ruse of being nothing more than a member of Tony's HR team, and Barton being unavailable for the mission for a reason no one questioned, five pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. A request, which at the time, didn't seem unreasonable nor unprecedented. He and Tony had been discussing their programming for weeks, before they were even made, as well as their mechanics and weaponry. So as Bruce is already familiar with the equipment, he is probably the best option besides the billionaire himself.

Then came the second request; monitoring Natasha as she creeps around the warehouse for the stashed weapons, dependent on the word of a single source that they had been unable to validate. The premise seemed simple enough; give Natasha directions based upon the blueprints Hill managed to secure from one of her other vast sources, while tracking anyone she may encounter while inside the warehouse. Easy. Or so Natasha said when she asked him.

Weeks ago, after she moved into the Tower, he found her looking at the paper work for one of her old missions, and shown interest in some of the equipment she used. After her genuine surprise and intrigue dissipated, she started teaching him how to use the monitoring program she and Barton used on their missions when they couldn't aid each other in close proximity. In satisfying his curiosity, he'd gotten pretty competent.

Except the gnawing niggle of doubt which has been eating away at him for the last two hours since her life was placed solely in his hands.

"I'm not letting you off the hook Banner." Bruce winces. Banner. Not Bruce, not Doc. Banner. "Stark's been showing you what to do for weeks," she reiterates. He grimaces again and she sighs. Loudly. "I have too, you know what to do. You're ready for this, you know you are."

"I'm not exactly qualified for this," Bruce mutters as he drops back against the chair. He scoops up some chicken and stuffs it in his mouth.

"You're the best we've got," Natasha comments a beat after she swallows. "JARVIS can multi-task but we need another set of eyes on the situation. If HYDRA have anything to use against Stark while he's in the suit, it'll most likely sever our link to him and the Legion too. You're there to cover our bases. Aside from you and JARVIS, we have no one else," she points out matter-of-factly.

That is true. Though Steve has been liaising with military and certain officials, they have no official approval from either the military, or the Government. Nothing. If this goes wrong, the authorities have plausible deniability and distance themselves further from the crap left behind by SHIELD. Once they have all the HYDRA operatives rounded up and enough evidence – the weapons - to link them to the raid on the Fridge, Steve is planning to contact the military to hand them over in a show of good faith, solidifying the Avengers as a solution rather than part of the problem. Handing over live prisoners also gives the opportunity for them to be tried for their crimes, and give eye witness testimony. What Natasha is more interested in is that hopefully it will provide more information to use against HYDRA's remaining network of cells.

He tries to argue again, yet falls silent when she swivels her body, lifting her legs over the railing as she gracefully dismounts her perch and rests her feet on solid ground. She continues to lean against the railing as she pins him with that bright green stare of hers. Knowing, daring, understanding, underlying smirk.

He tries to look anywhere but at her. It's impossible against the night backdrop of the city skyline of flickering artificial lights highlighting her figure in dark jeans and blue and white striped shirt. Their friendship has almost returned to the status quo since Tony revealed his plans for a Hulkbuster suit. Resuming their nightly meetings on the roof and talking, or not talking, as they liked; it was almost like before. Except she is less lenient with him. And uses his surname more frequently than his first or her affectionate nickname. As demonstrated by her comments moments ago.

She's not the type to hold a grudge and she certainly wouldn't have resumed their nightly excursions to the rooftop if she didn't forgive him but they haven't cleared the air. Not entirely despite her words of reassurance or her eloquent _"We need to stop over thinking things Doc"_.

It's easy to become complacent here in the Tower, surrounded in the Manhattan ambiance. It's easy to feel hopeful when you have a view like this to come home to or to watch over. While they don't speak about it, nevertheless it's essentially what they've been doing. No matter how many times they've sat out here since the Invasion, enjoying the beautiful skyline of the concrete jungle they live in; day or night, they always cast an appraising glance upward to check the sky is unmarred and in one piece.

The others avoid it because they would get wrapped up in the day to day problems the city faces down on the streets.

For Natasha and Bruce, it's easier to ignore the sirens and honking horns. Not out of lack of sympathy, but their reasons are selfish. Aside from Natasha's recent very public berating of the Government and her previous employers, they prefer to keep a low profile. Steve and Tony and Thor are the faces of the Avengers; the Hulk also counts, except he doesn't do public relations that well. In contrast, Natasha and Barton naturally blend into the background due to their years of doing so. They don't want to get dragged into the politics like Steve and Tony have. It's easier for Bruce to accept when he sees the rumours of emerging heroes fighting back, against the mobsters controlling parts of the city and the corrupt law enforcement who let them, people who've always lived here defending their own city, splashed across the front pages of the tabloids he reads over Natasha's shoulder at breakfast.

The catcalls from the protestors growing louder by the day, drowning out the fans and the media. In Bruce's ears they've always stood out above the others and that's mostly indulging his self-depreciating facet of his personality.

He's envious of those who don't know monsters exist. The innocent who remain unaffected by the threats the world faces, intergalactic and domestic. How many lives will they taint and condemn by declaring war on the Earth's enemies? Bruce likes the premise of what they want to achieve, but to him it's a dream which is unattainable. Get rid of one threat, there's always another waiting to take its place. And with Thor and Loki's arrival and the recent revelations about the wider universe, the potential threats have a greater scope than any of them, except for Fury, had the foresight to consider.

People are looking at the Avengers to restore their faith in the big lies of justice, mercy and duty. All things Steve focuses on when he feels the urge to give them a much-needed pep talk which makes Bruce feel guiltier instead of motivated like he intends to do. In an ideal world, their plan would work and they'd all be able to live happily ever after. But this isn't an ideal world where they get a fantasy ending.

"People need the fantasy," Natasha says and he realises he's been speaking out loud. "It makes the world bearable."

He flushes and meets her eyes. "We're feeding them a lie," Bruce points out when he finds his voice.

She shrugs with a sigh. "People need them."

"Says the woman who spilled all of her secrets on the internet."

"I thought you approved of my moment of honesty," Natasha replies carefully, to his ill-timed comeback.

"I do, sorry," Bruce assures her. "It's just people think we're able to provide them with a utopia, restore the peace. The world has never been that."

"Not for people like us anyway."

He raises an eyebrow at the underlying bitterness in her voice; sympathising with it. She was a young girl when she was introduced to this world by the Red Room without her permission. Her choice was stolen from her. "That's my point. Dragging the public into this, whether they're ready or not. It's like we're stealing their innocence."

Her eyes flicker to his and they don't hold the usual lightness he's become accustomed to. She's probably as angry and shielded as he's ever seen her. And she has little patience with his train of thought.

"Ignorance," she corrects. "This isn't our fault Bruce, we didn't start this," Natasha continues. "You can't go on questioning the 'what if's'."

They are both aware it's a small impasse before the dark days return, if there are any truly good days at all. When they may feel lost and alone, when they need someone to remind them to hope, that they are greater than what they suffer through needlessly. This skyline binds them, quietly, because this is where they came together to hold the biggest threat anyone had seen at bay.

Sometimes he feels as though HYDRA pales in comparison to the Chitauri, but then he remembers they hold the sceptre which gave the Chitauri the opportunity to attack and that must be recovered at all costs. He feels slightly better about what he's supposed to do tomorrow.

"You'll be in the Quinjet," she breathes out, almost soothingly.

The Quinjet. He can see the plane in all its glory on the landing pad at the curve of the building. Dark, gleaming, menacing. Beautiful and sleek, a looming epitome of state of the art weaponry and stealth technology. Bruce frowns at it.

"The intel is good Bruce, the best we've had. We need to check this base out." Natasha pauses. "What do you think the world would be like for people if we sit back and did nothing?" She nods her head in the direction of the street below. "We are their hope, people are looking to us to follow our lead. All of the people who made us who we are." He gives her look and she corrects herself, "I mean those who supported us when we didn't believe in ourselves, those who want to right thing but don't know how, those who already died for this cause, we carry a part of all of them with us in what happens next. We owe it to them to remind ourselves of who we are and of who we can be."

She's right, of course, yet he still takes a moment to mull over her words, agreeing with her silently despite taking on a slight frown of concentration, which she mistakes for his reluctance.

"Give me a reason other than being afraid of Hulking out, and I'll consider showing you what you need to do. Again." Natasha ignores his responding frown like he knew she would.

It's her words which make him pause. He doesn't really have an excuse besides the one she's said, and the rest linked to it. "I thought _that's_ what we're doing after dinner, to double check everything I know before the mission."

Natasha considers it for a long beat, then realises he's right.

"Stop pouting, even if it might be cute, I'm not falling for it," Natasha says as she pushes away from the railing, abandoning her Chinese food on the table, as she moves toward the living room.

Bruce lifts his lips as he also discards his carton, and trails behind her, complying her silent order to follow. Her movements are fluid and confident –just like she is– as she rounds the corner into the corridor which leads them to the loading bay. "As much as I'd like to take it for a joyride, I'm not a pilot," Natasha calls over her shoulder. "You'll need to ask Stark or Barton if you want to learn to fly." She pauses. "Though they'll probably approve if you take it for a joyride before asking."

Bruce just follows, chuckling quietly at her one-sided conversation, while casually checking if they had drawn any attention from anyone else. He _feels_ like he's being watched but that could be because they're about to do something completely foolish, or he will at least, and it'll break his delicate truce with Natasha.

It sounds like pressurised air being released when Natasha opens the hangar doors. The Quinjet's ramp lowers to the floor and Bruce glances around for whoever is watching them. For the life of him he knows it's Tony. The others put far too much importance of privacy to watch them covertly, and Steve's far too polite to do it. Or maybe it was what his friend mentioned about asking JARVIS to check their whereabouts every so often for safety purposes.

"I could ask Thor," Bruce says as an afterthought.

Natasha turns in mock surprise when she's halfway up the slope, and slowly smiles at him, the first true smile she's given him in days, and fondly mutters "Dork," before rolling her eyes and continuing up to the cargo hold.

The _other_ nickname makes him feel victorious, as he tip-toes up the metal lean behind her. She starts to close it as soon as she reaches the internal panel, disorientating him as he attempts to continue along the moving gangway, but that's her aim and Bruce tries to play it off as well as he can. She smiles innocently at his harried accusatory look.

He ignores her and walks around the cargo hold, taking in the chairs lining the outer walls as well as a central island which would double as a table if any of them were injured. Some storage cubbies litter one wall. He studied each part of the plane, ignoring the cockpit as long as he can. Natasha lets him, allows him to acclimatise with his new environment, his new work space as of the morning.

It's not as cramped as he expected it to be. He's been on it before, yet he never really paid attention. He was more concerned with keeping calm inside a pressurised container. Except now the plane is anchored to the flight deck and he has no need to worry about take-off. At least, not for a few more hours. Now it was a shelter from prying eyes.

"So," he draws out, turning in a half circle to face Natasha who had been walking along the opposite side toward the piloting console. "Can we go over this again?"

She cocks her head toward the console, indicating he should be beside her not over the other side of the plane. He closes the distance quickly, and looks at the screens in front of the chair she usually sits in. He steps close to her back, respecting her personal boundaries, as he looks over her shoulder. Normally this would be pushing those boundaries but she gave a silent invitation when she nodded to the console. She tenses for a millisecond and he feels the air shift, tense. Bruce shuffles back half a step and she slightly relaxes but it's so minute Bruce would have missed it if he wasn't so focused on her. The last time they were this close, they were face to face and she kissed him.

"Are you angry with me?" Natasha asks out of the blue as she fiddles with something on the panel in front of her.

"Angry with you?" Bruce's eyes snap to her face, or at least the side of it he can see. His view is obstructed by her hair falling across her cheek, and he itches to tuck it behind her ear to help him figure out how to react to her question. She's not giving him any other clues; her tone is painfully neutral and she hasn't faltered doing whatever she is doing to the instruments. With her gaze fixed on the dashboard in front of her, Natasha flips a few switches and the lights flick on, their soft glow illuminating the dim interior of the plane. Despite her earlier joke about a joyride, he knows she's been in a plane often enough to know at _least_ the basics, especially with the confidence she's displaying with the equipment. The engines haven't engaged yet, so he gathers she intends to stay here. "Why would I be angry with you?"

He can't think of anything he's done since his apology, the latest in a long list of apologies, to give her that impression. If anything, he is under the assumption that she is angry with him.

"You haven't said yes or no," Natasha points out her face still cast downward.

"I'm not Natasha," Bruce presses, slightly frustrated with the lack of eye contact in this conversation. Not that it would do him much good if she wants to hide her true feelings. "If I have done something to make you think that, I'm sorry."

Straightening, she sighs loudly. "Stark and I both gave you solutions to dealing with the Hulk," she explains. "Yet you were grateful for his, and not mine." She pauses when he touches her elbow and turns to face him. "I'm not asking for gratitude Bruce, it just seemed like you were still angry with me for what I did."

"No," Bruce shakes his head and steps forward, deliberately into her space. "It's just different Natasha. I thought we went over this."

She pushes off the dashboard, bringing herself even closer. Their eyes finally meeting, neither acknowledge or react to their proximity. "Why is it different?" She rasps softly.

" _We're_ different," he concedes just as softly. _"You_ are different."

The fact that he admits it is a surprise to both of them. It's true, whether they acknowledge it or not, and the real reason for his apprehension. Her eyelids flutter rapidly as she processes it. The quick motion is over before he knows it, and she's staring at him again. Open green eyes, pupils dilating, her breath on his face. He could close the distance between them so easily, just one step is all it would take.

If he were braver, he would.

Instead he looks away and shuffles his feet again. Then she blinks away the flicker of disappointment. He wants to launch into an explanation but knows it would be the worst thing he could do. She understands.

 _She's_ different. _They're_ different.

And he can't stand the thought of her being hurt. It would only be worse if it happened while he was supposed to be watching her back. He's scared of failing without having the other guy to blame.

Natasha finally nods resolutely before turning back to the control panel. "JARVIS will load the blueprints of the warehouse in the morning, and you'll need to guide me through the corridors while the rest of the team is creating a diversion up top. Stark will need to show you how to monitor the Iron Legion."

Tony already showed him how to do that via the interface Tony rarely puts down, but they'll mostly be controlled via JARVIS, and the AI will inform the Avengers of any problems. Bruce is just the manual backup if the link fails.

Bruce watches as she slides a memory stick into a USB port. It loads seconds later and he's looking at he assumes is a previous mission for SHIELD. The black dot moves fluidly along a corridor as red dots are positioned in various corridors and rooms around it. "This is me," Natasha points to the black dot then the other dots. "And you have to alert me to their positions while telling me how to get to the weapons store."

His eyes are pinned to the screen as the black dot encounters at least six red ones and seconds later moves on while they stay stationary. He's grateful this isn't CCTV, and he can't see the bodies laid out on the floor. "You scare me," he murmurs, adjusting his glasses. It's not like he's unfamiliar with her methods but it's always a shock to him whenever he's presented with it.

"I'll take that under advisement," she sounds amused yet pleased with his assessment. "In my defence, they were all intent on killing me."

"They deserved it then," Bruce replies. "Will I be able to tell the difference if it's the team approaching you?" He asks. The task seems simple enough but he has a few questions.

"Their comms will also be tracked in black," Natasha answers as she points to a second black dot entering the screen. "Barton, from our last joint mission before New York."

Bruce accepts the information with a nod. "What's the extraction plan if this is a trap?"

"Thor punches through the wall and gets me out," Natasha says it so easily he almost believes it won't happen without bloodshed.

* * *

But there is bloodshed.

Lots of it.

At least from what he can discern from the sounds coming loud and clear through his ear piece. Muffled gunfire, raucous shouts and disjointed conversation from his team mates.

They seem to be gaining ground on the HYDRA agents manning this isolated outpost, but as much as the team have tried to subdue without fatalities, with Tony and Natasha armed with the anti-personnel ammo designed to incapacitate, the enemy are intent on fighting them every step of the way. Bruce feels the tension as he listens over the comms. His palms are sweaty and he's itching to pace the small space but he's got a job to do and he tries to focus on the dots on the screen in front of him. Natasha has been lucky so far, sneaking past the defences easily. If the intel Hill received is correct, the weapons vault they're looking for should right in front of Natasha.

"It's not here Bruce," her voice breathes into his ear followed by muffled gunfire.

He's not sure if that's where she is, or if he's getting confused with communication from the rest of the team. "I'm fine Bruce," she says a moment louder after it quietens. He sighs, relief washing over him. "Sounds like the antique boys outside are getting their ass handed to them. Need a little help guys?" she directs at the group.

"I resent the implication that we're all old," Tony answers. "Some of us maybe," cough "Rogers" cough. Bruce smiles.

"Stark," Steve warns. "Concentrate on what you're doing Widow."

"Just another way of saying 'we've got this Red'," Tony adds just to annoy Steve.

The two carry on their own little verbal tête-à-tête as Natasha's voice clearly cuts through their argument. "Look at the blueprints again. Tell me where I need to go."

"Widow, Banner," comes Steve's no-nonsense tone again, clear and commanding, through his earpiece making Bruce feel like he's being reprimanded by a teacher. The question is clear though. _Problem?_

"The vault isn't where the blueprints say it is," Natasha answers. "Or at least the door isn't here."

"Can you find another one?" Steve asks hurriedly and Bruce hears the tell-tale bounce of his shield ricocheting off something.

"There isn't one," Natasha provides. Her voice sounds different. It's her but she seems distracted, distant. "They could've done some remodelling."

Bruce looks back down at the blueprints. The door is supposed to be at the end of a corridor with no other doors, no other way out. No red dots are closing in and Natasha hasn't encountered any HYDRA agents, not even any unarmed personnel. Bruce assumes they're all defending their compound from the Avengers. Or at least that's what it sounds like through his earpiece.

"Or it's a trap. Banner," Steve says sharply focusing his attention. "Are you sure it's there on the blueprint?"

"It's there next to Natasha," Bruce replies.

"I could always make a door," Natasha quips as she sounds like she's moving quickly.

Neither man have an opportunity to say anything they hear a click and a beep. In his gut, Bruce knows what will come next and he's proven right by the quick moving black dot as it moves around a corner. Then he hears a bang and crumbling bricks.

"Natasha?" Bruce questions.

"Jackpot," she declares after a long minute. "Some of the weapons from the Fridge, but no sign of the Sceptre," Natasha says as she peruses the vault she 'cracked'.

Bruce nor Steve have the heart to admonish her risky act, both too relieved she's fine. Bruce closes his eyes for second, and when they reopen he flickers them back to the screen to see a completely different scene from before the blast. Six red dots approaching the dead-end corridor Natasha is currently ransacking. Other dots start to appear in other corridors without moving into them. He assumes –with some annoyance– the HYDRA soldiers had been hiding in shielded rooms and became visible once they decided to ambush Natasha. He also assumes they were probably tracking her the entire time she has been in the building.

"You need to get out of there Natasha. Six agents closing in at the end of the corridor, more incoming." He gives her a couple of seconds to digest that information. "They must have something cloaking their operatives from the tracking program. Whatever you did must have messed with their systems as they're appearing from nowhere."

* * *

Natasha steps up to the edge of the hole she made and uses the crumbling wall for cover as she checks Bruce's information. Apparently, the HYDRA infantry is using her technique, and using the corner to hide behind, she thanked the building's bright lighting which casts shadows just on the peripheral of the turning.

She rolls her eyes.

It's been too quiet, too easy, she acknowledges.

They must have created more hideaways for agents to stay out of the way when HYDRA renovated the building to conceal the vault. It is a setup and she walked straight into it. She has no time to consider their motivation, or the bait they were given.

Thankfully Bruce is quiet in her ear, giving her time to consider her options.

She looks at the bag at her feet, but nothing in there will help her. She could completely go against Steve's orders and take them out with another grenade, except they're trying to make a point. It's not one she agrees with wholeheartedly because the people at the other end of the corridor won't afford them the same courtesy if they get the opportunity. Part of her wants revenge for the people she used to work with, against those who masqueraded as SHIELD agents, against those who still oppose them. She also wants revenge for herself and how they overthrew SHIELD tainted her redemption. But the Avengers are making a statement by striking out against HYDRA; they're acting independently from SHIELD, they're defending the world from what HYDRA is doing.

Limiting fatalities is part of that plan.

Also, she will personally oversee their interrogations if not directly questioning any prisoners who manage to survive today. She wants to be the first to know any information which could aid them in fighting HYDRA and save more lives.

Which means Natasha needs an alternative escape route. Another grenade is out of the question, the wall is too unstable from the first explosion. Amongst her weaponry she has one of Fury's favoured utensils, a laser capable of cutting through walls. She could've used it before but she was working on the assumption the building was clear and no one else would be injured when she used the grenade. Also, she wanted to mess with Bruce a little and push the limits of his nerves with the situation.

"I'm going to have to make another door," she whispers into her earpiece, and hears Bruce's sigh of relief.

Moving swiftly, she hoists the bag on her back and throws a smoke bomb down the hall followed by an EMP to take out any more sophisticated weapons they may have, aiding her escape. She makes quick work of the wall and shimmies through the hole she creates.

"You're going to have to guide me Bruce," she finally finds her voice. "I'll have to be maintain radio silence after this, but you'll see me moving on the screen. Just keep telling me where to go and remember I can cut through the walls."

"Keep going in this direction," comes his unusually confident reply.

She knows exactly where she's going, she memorised the plans when they first received the intel from Hill. She is prepared for this mission, like she was for all missions. Bruce was there as a backup, and she hoped this will boost his confidence when it came to being in the field. And he isn't failing her.

He's focused on her and that's what she needs. She has faith in him, but she's never been the problem, it's his faith in himself which is the issue. He won't lose his concentration. Not now. Because _"We're different."_

Now isn't the time to think of that, yet it's definitely shelved for a future conversation, which rides on navigating this maze which has changed from the blueprints in front of Bruce. At least the external walls are where they're meant to be, or the rest of the team would have realised it before now.

Behind her she hears the rapid footwork of HYDRA's soldiers, their boots falling heavily on the tile floor without bothering to be subtle. She's knows they're following, so there's no point really.

Bruce's voice is in her head, giving her directions and the locations of those following her. He also mentions Tony is trying to get to her, but they've doubled the defensive line on the perimeter. She wonders exactly where they were all hiding. Once this is over, she's scouring this building personally. Then she's going after their informant.

"Two should be in front of you," Bruce whispers and she smiles fondly. He doesn't need to be quiet. Thankfully there's a wall between her and the two sneaking up on her and they can't see her expression.

She's evaded the ones following her so far, except they're fast approaching too. She looks around the room for anything to cover her to buy some time but there's nothing. Dropping another smoke bomb, she waits for the first agent to emerge out of it with his gun pointed at her chest. She pushes his gun away from her and pulses her widow bites to his neck to stun him. She grasps the gun and uses the butt of it to knock out the next operative to appear.

Another is upon her quickly as the second falls to the ground, and she spins the gun in her grip and fires a round into his shoulder, dropping his primary weapon. He tries to stay upright despite the pain, and grabs a knife from his hip and starts swiping at her with uncoordinated movements, obviously using his weaker arm now his dominant one is useless. She dodges them easily and pushes the gun butt into his throat to hold him at bay while grabbing the swinging arm by the wrist with her other hand to try and pry the knife from his hand. He refuses to drop it so she has no choice but to let the gun fall to the floor to push her now free palm against his elbow, forcing it to contort painfully, she hears the bone snap. He drops to the floor in agony.

"Nat?" Bruce calls worriedly but she has to ignore him as she stuns the last three quickly. Steve will be proud they're all still breathing at her feet.

"Sorry, I got a little tied up," she breathes out.

"I hope that's a metaphor," he worries.

"I'm surprised you said that without stammering," she retorts.

"So am I," Bruce concurs with a breathy chuckle. "No one likes being tied up."

"I don't know, in the right situation with the right person it could be fun," she poses with a smirk.

"Um…" There's the stammer she's been waiting for.

"We're lucky Stark's too preoccupied to comment," Natasha baits him.

"I _am_ here, and you two are killing me," the billionaire bites. "If Red whips out the rope Banner, run with it. If she says anything about hiding the zucchini, run with that too."

"Do we really need to discuss this now?" Steve cuts in before either of them can reply. "Apart from directions, can we keep comms chatter to a minimum? It's distracting."

"Just because you're not getting laid, doesn't mean no one else should," Tony replies cheekily.

Natasha smothers her snicker as she hears Bruce and Steve groan at the same time. She can imagine Bruce removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Getting laid?" Thor questions and she has to bite her lip. "What does lying down have to do with rope?"

"I'll have the birds and the bees talk with you later Thor," Tony promises when Steve groans again. "You too, Cap," he adds.

"Stark!" Steve warns. "Romanoff needs extraction, and they're zeroing in on myself and Thor."

"Alright, alright," Tony mutters. Then confers with JARVIS over her position. "Incoming Red," he says before the wall blows away a meter from where she's standing and he stuns the two HYDRA agents Bruce indicated to her moments ago.

"What took you so long?" She jokes as he hovers beyond the perimeter wall. "Not all of us can fly."

"Just for that you can walk back to the jet," he fires back.

Ignoring him, Natasha ducks through the hole and surveys the scene in the day light. Tony floats above her, returning fire from a group which have congregated on the roof of the building; Steve is front of the building going hand to hand, one on six; while Thor is cornered at the far corner by several men flanking a tank. The God just smirks and dramatically slams his hammer on the ground, causing an electrical current to course through the floor and flip the tank clear into the air. While her team mates are outnumbered, they clearly have control of the situation now that they've drawn the rest of the militants to the surface.

She's about to make a run for it while the others are distracting the opposition when a missile launched from the roof explodes near her, she ducks out of the way behind a jeep but it won't provide adequate cover for long. She looks to the Quinjet just over four hundred meters away with Bruce safely inside.

"You've got more coming out from where Natasha is," Bruce informs them.

She's exposed where she is especially to whoever follows her out.

"We need those weapons on the jet. We could also do with some additional air support" Steve says with a nod toward the incoming armoured vehicles before looking at the open path to the jet, while fighting off three men before his eyes rest on Natasha's position. She'll be a moving target but with little protection from bullets or whatever HYDRA decide to aim at her. The rest of them come to the same conclusion.

"I'll cover you," Tony asserts. Natasha nods.

"Banner," Steve orders. "Lower the hangar doors and be ready to close them when Widow boards."

* * *

"Already on it," Bruce replies as strides to the back of the plane. The mechanism strains as the ramp lowers too slowly for his liking. As it expands, he gasps at the scene unfolding. In the distance he sees Thor take down at least a dozen men with guns, and flip a tank with a single strike of his hammer to the floor. Even Bruce feels the vibrations rippling under the jet.

Finally, the bottom door settles and he catches a glimpse of red hair as Natasha sprints toward him. She keeps her head down as Tony focuses on the group of men firing on her by concentrating his repulsors on the area around them. Steve helps by flinging his shield toward them, bouncing it off the weakened roof just below their feet causing them to fall.

She is about half way to the plane when an armoured jeep appears from behind the building racing after her. Their guns are already firing, but she weaves slightly, barely managing to dodge the bullets. He wants to say something, urge her to move faster but the words catch in his throat; he doesn't want to do anything which may distract her and slow her down. He taps the metal panelling nervously in time with his rapid heartbeat.

"Come on Natasha," he mumbles to himself.

He can hear his other half growling loudly in the back of his mind, and for once he wholeheartedly agrees with him. His anger is painful as he watches her, feeling useless. It builds inside of him with every step she moves closer to the plane, with every bullet fired.

She lifts her head a moment later to gage the distance left before she reaches the safety of the ramp. Over her shoulder he spies the rocket launcher being readied on the back of the jeep. He catches her suddenly wide eyes, green as the haze which comes over him. His feet begin to move down the ramp as he feels his body expanding. For once he welcomes the change and it's a relief when he hears the roar coming from his own mouth.

* * *

She's been lucky till now, the bullets breeze past her as she runs toward the Quinjet. She almost loses her footing when she sees Bruce at the side of the ramp, his eyes bright green. His shirt strains against the growing muscles before reaching its limit and ripping as the green skin bursts forth as the fabric slips away. She can't control her shock, or her relief, as he roars.

The Hulk runs down the ramp in all his glory toward and bolts toward her. Some may question the huge amount of trust she's putting in him, she fully expects Bruce to corner her later for that very reason and she already knows how that conversation is going to go, but considering their recent interaction, he's the safer option when compared to turning around to face the men shooting at her. Natasha keeps her pace, aiming to meet him somewhere in the middle so he can cover her as she hopes he intends. Just as they align, she pivots on her foot and draws her gun from its holster. She has no chance to fire because the Big Guy charges the jeep which is following her, flipping it and its passengers as if they weighed nothing.

He doesn't stop to see the wreckage or check for casualties, he moves on to the next vehicle taking aim at them or the jet. Natasha, unable to head to safety knowing the rest of the team is still out here, realises there's a chance to finish this quickly and stays close behind him uses him as cover as she returns fire from someone else shooting at them. The other Avengers converge on them, and they concentrate their efforts on the stubborn few standing HYDRA agents, finally forcing them to surrender.

While the team stop to survey the aftermath, and secure the men while they wait for the military to collect them, the Hulk continues to stomp the perimeter of the compound. Natasha keeps an eye on him and his tightly clenched fists. He's still riled up, if his snarling is anything to go by. He's antsy, looking for something else to smash.

Beside her, Steve is still tense and casting their green teammate surreptitious looks. Natasha huffs lightly. The Avenger's poster boy has always been the weariest of their green friend, going so far as to be openly so when he first met Bruce. He's led hundreds of missions, in charge of dozens of teams. He should understand the after effects of the fight and the lingering adrenaline all of which is amplified with the Hulk. For now, the Hulk is content to walk it off along the boundary but it may be a different story if he notices Steve's sideways glances.

The Iron legion are standing guard when Stark and Thor approach to confer with each other. Stark flips his face plate and watches him openly. "This is could take a while," he comments.

"We're not leaving him here," Natasha says.

"No one suggested we would Nat," Steve tells her. "We've got time before they're collected. We need to secure the weapons," he reminds her.

She shrugs the bag from her back and hands it to him. "I'll watch him while you stow it on the jet," she says, her eyes still on the green giant.

"Is that wise?"

"I'm going to try and calm him down before the military show up. The last thing we need is for them to be hostile toward him," she replies testily.

"I shall accompany you, to keep him at bay if that happens," Thor offers but she holds up a hand to stop him.

"He needs to realise the fight is over. If he sees you, he'll wanna wrestle," Natasha points out. Thor flashes her a grin momentarily before realising that's not the correct response and overexaggerates a frown, apparently the Hulk isn't the only who needs to be told when to stop smashing. "I'll be fine. I can handle the Big Guy."

The two men look at her doubtfully, till Stark speaks up, "Well it's not like you haven't done it before."

Without waiting to explain Stark's words, she uses it to cover her exit while listening to Steve's questioning protests as she does. She ignores all of them and jogs around the building to their friend. It doesn't take her long till she's rounding a corner, stopping in wonder as she's greeted by the green expanse of his back facing her. The slight envy which has grown into budding appreciation of his strength and indestructability causes her to slow her approach, almost as if she had come across a skittish animal and she doesn't want to scare him away. Which is probably an accurate description in this case, she supposes.

Her lips purse into a fond smile, one she would bestow on Lila when she was doing something cute, as he stands looking up the sun. He sighs quietly, his posture sagging with what she can only describe as relief. Silently stepping to her left, she gets a better view of his profile; his face as near to euphoric as he can manage with he closes his eyes to its warmth on his skin. Suddenly he stretches his arms and growls softly as if to greet it. She feels like she's intruding on his privacy for a second and thinks about moving away but then he opens his eyes and stares straight at her, his approximation of a smile directed at her.

Her cheeks warm in a way she can't blame on the suns' rays and she realises the growing affection she feels for Bruce includes the Big Guy too. It had become apparent a long time ago she would have to try and coax his fear away, a fear she can relate to all too easily, a fear of becoming a monster he has no control over. It's difficult for her understand that when she sees said 'monster' enjoying such a simple pleasure so peacefully. She wonders what it would take for Bruce to see his monster the way she does now, or accept it if she were ever presented with the opportunity to record it for him or her prosperity. Marvelling at their antipathy toward each other, despite how their existences are simultaneously reliant upon one another, yet neither appreciates the positives the other contributes to each other's lives.

Glancing back up at him she drops her fighting façade, "You like the sun, huh?"

He blinks clumsily and she bites her curving lips together.

"You would have gone further if you were really running away but you just wanted a better view," Natasha says. _Just like Bruce._

He grunts and she smiles. At least he's responding. Then he starts walking, not quickly but his longer stride means he covers more ground and Natasha has to move her legs quicker than normal to keep up with him.

"I know you don't get out much Big Guy, and you need to stretch your legs every once and a while but I've already done that today so would you mind slowing down for me."

Her statement is completely false and she still has the energy to follow him around despite the fight. It does have the desired effect when he starts to lag. He's still tense though, his body still coiled to be ready at a moment's notice.

"Thanks," she tells him and pulls a face at his puckered brow. "You were a big help back there and I," -she swallows-"well I'm glad you decided to wade in when you did. I wanted you to know I'm grateful."

He growls lowly but she hears the helicopters on the horizon beyond his utterance. He notices them too. "They're on our side," she promises. "I know you're not going to like what I'm going to say but you have to help me out again Big Guy.

"They're going to be scared of you, and there's nothing we can do about it," Natasha continues. "It's up to you, we can go back to the jet and hang out till they leave-." He abruptly drops to a crouch before rocking back on his haunches and lowering himself to the ground with a huff. "Or we could just stay here out of the way."

Natasha hunkers down herself, the idea of staying with him more appealing than dealing with the incoming military support.

"I guess if you had a problem with me sitting with you, you'd let me know," she says suddenly thinking of Bruce's denial of being angry with her. He cocks his head with a huff. _Interesting._ "Do you have an issue with it?"

A definite shake of his head and she's sure the distaste she reads on his face is at having to answer the question rather than the question itself. She really shouldn't be bringing this up here of all places. "You didn't hurt anyone, they're all breathing at least," Natasha assures him, and adds as an afterthought, "We really need to rethink this stun and restrain policy."

A ghost of smirk answers her and she smiles faintly back. Bruce would be disagreeing with her about their methods and how today turned out. There are casualties, certainly a number of them, but it's far less than there would have been without their restraint. Bruce will fight her every step of the way if she brings this up to him; his reluctance to accept the Hulk is entwined so intrinsically with his psyche and long years of self-incrimination and loathing. He's got a huge buffer between her and his overly guarded fear. It's time to focus on the positives.

"You're easier to talk to, you know that?"

He smirks at that too. She knows he would agree to what she's been thinking about since the last time they spoke, if she only asked.

"But you're not the one I need to convince. He is."


	9. Chapter 9

11

 **Author Note – Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter, especially a very sweet guest reviewer who made my day by leaving one. As always, Black' Victor Cachat is a fantastic and patient beta, go check out their stories.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter nine

" _Courage doesn't happen when you have all the answers. It happens when you are ready to face the questions you have been_ _avoiding your whole life."―_ _Shannon L. Alder_

Steve handles the debriefing with the military at the scene. While he relayed the information to the soldiers, Natasha discovered one of the perks of sticking close to the Big Guy after the fight, none of the military personnel present were brave enough to approach him. Apparently, they were still hesitant about the Hulks' involvement and kept a safe distance at their own choice without a word from the other Avengers to run interference. They didn't want to engage him like those at Culver did.

As she expects, Bruce finds her that night.

Hours after he transforms back, and sat through a debriefing filled with tension; Steve taking the lead and informing Hill about the inaccurate blueprints, and how HYDRA blocked their tracking systems. They all agreed the mission was a set-up, a test if not a trap. To what end is still unclear. Suffice to say, Hill left the meeting on her own mission muttering to someone on the other end of her phone about tracing the agent who provided the questionable intel.

The others filed out after her; Bruce essentially sprinting off to his room to shower, while offering a throw away comment about sand being in uncomfortable places. Tony followed with the other men while telling Bruce it was a downside of running around half-naked, then he switched tacks to explain the concept of using ropes during sex to Thor, while Steve trailed slightly behind groaning louder with every euphemism Stark used. Natasha left the room last, and made her way out to the roof. She spent the last hours of daylight watching the sky change slowly from picture perfect blue to dusky pink morphing to purple before the black eventually reigned as far as she can see. Her thoughts never straying far from the mission, or the possible repercussions.

The weapons Natasha liberated turned out to be nothing more than conventional ballistics with modifications based upon some of the stolen weapons, giving them more 'oomph', was Stark's technical analysis when he relayed it in the debriefing. They would need to investigate further before drawing any conclusions about their uses, whether they were to arm HYDRA's agents or to sell to raise funds. Natasha has her doubts, and assumes HYDRA wanted to draw the Avengers out, see which of them turned up and how they worked together up close, as well as discovering how their soldiers would be dealt with once captured. HYDRA used such simple bait, basic intel with enough detail from a source who was _thought_ to be a SHIELD operative. No civilians were in danger, it was supposed to be an easy mission. Now they know which Avengers will show up and for what. That was part of the reason she suggested Barton sit this one out, so he would be the surprise on the next mission.

The set-up of the compound made the trap apparent. The guys wouldn't have seen it from outside, but with the remodelling from the original plans HYDRA were clearly trying to trap one of them. They were waiting for them, for her. They were prepared for them down to the heavy artillery for Thor and the Big Guy. Not to mention had a better understanding of the limits of Tony's technology.

HYDRA will most likely use today's confrontation when planning their next moves. No one has exact figures for how many HYDRA operatives are out there, their influence is widespread and their agents are still imbedded in government agencies, but it's unlikely they can afford to do this more than once. They lost a lot of soldiers during their latest attempt to conquer the world and, and with everyone looking for them now, that heavy focus will make it more difficult to move funds and resources. Those soldiers captured today were placid once the military turned up, yet facing the Avengers they never let up, not even when Bruce transformed. Once the Avengers were together in front of their compound they brought out the heavy artillery and concentrated their efforts on stopping them from leaving.

The main thing about today which worried Natasha was their stealth technology blocked Stark's sensors. It's particularly important to her job as she tends to be the one infiltrating compounds to gather information or turn off weapons targeting the team. She needs to know who's around her, she's confident in her capabilities but it's nice to get the drop on them. If she hadn't been so intent on securing the weapons on the plane, she would have tried to locate the source to get something Stark and Bruce to work with to counter their new toys.

Natasha stays in her chair as Bruce steps out onto the terrace, and places a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Her eyes barely flicker as she lifts the cup to her mouth to blow on it before testing the temperature against her lip. He doesn't look at her as he walks to the railing, sipping from his own cup of what she presumes is tea.

She sips her coffee again; black and bitter, exactly how she drinks it.

She can practically feel the anger reeling off of him. Natasha has been waiting for him and it's taken him hours to calm down enough to approach her. It'll take her mere minutes to undo the calming techniques he's perfected over the years.

"Do you ever think about what happens when this is all over?" Natasha asks him quietly to break the awkward silence.

Bruce chuckles darkly and shakes his head at the question, her audacity to ask it. "All the time," he replies.

"I never did, not before," Natasha admits thickly. "I learnt a long time ago not to put much stock in the future, because retirement isn't meant for me."

"You can't live your life like it's a suicide mission, Natasha," Bruce shoots back angrily.

"It always has been," she points out, refusing to raise her voice, yet. She knows it'll irk him no matter her volume or tone of voice. He doesn't see the necessity in her chosen path. It's one of the few differences between them. Though they both agree they should challenge a regime which hopes to reign tyranny on the world; Bruce clings to the ideal it can be done through rational conversation and negotiation without spilling blood. Whereas Natasha has learnt that's rarely the case but the man will do almost anything within his power to avoid a conflict unless he's pushed to his limit. She wonders exactly what that limit is. She also wonders whether he considers HYDRA a lesser threat than the Chitauri because they're human. He should realise by now what HYDRA are prepared to do take over the world. He should realise by now what the Avengers have to do to stop them.

"Why are you so curious about him?" Bruce asks with a cold, detached tone. She knows who he is referring to.

She looks up at his back, dressed in his usual plaid shirt and slacks, his stance reminds her of the Hulks' as he 'greeted' the sun. Except he isn't as accepting of her. At the moment, anyway. She already feels the strain on their friendship which is becoming harder for her to define. He's a friend, and she hopes he still considers her one despite their difference of opinion. She's had very few in her life and fewer she's trusted. They were fine till they had dinner, and everything became blurred and they entered this limbo. Neither felt the need to discuss the kiss further after the last time. They seemed to agree it wouldn't happen again but that didn't mean she didn't think about it. Even if neither of them classed it as a date, that evening was probably the only real one she's been on. All the others were assignments with the aim to distract lecherous men with her charm before she would either interrogate, infiltrate or rob them of whatever intel or artefact they held. Some evenings ended with disposing a body, some of them didn't.

But that night…that night she was free from assignments, free from the life she was being forced to leave behind. For the first time since Fury disappeared to maintain the lie of his death, she felt like she could breathe; spending a few hours with Bruce felt natural, unforced, there was no ulterior motive except to eat food and talk to the quiet, gentle man. Kissing him at the end of the night felt natural, unforced. And she pulled away wanting to kiss him again.

The pull she feels toward Bruce is confusing for her; nothing like she's ever experienced. She's never let anyone in this quickly, nor has she had the inclination.

It took Clint awhile to break through her defences. The residual programming from the Red Room made it virtually impossible for her to trust anyone, except he was persistent and she finally gave someone the benefit of the doubt and he never proved her wrong. When she first met her partner, she wanted out of her old life, her first one, spouting things about redemption and working for a cause – all the things she never considered or understood. Clint taught her so much. About SHIELD, her job, herself. He was the first person to show her a measure of unconditional trust by introducing her to his family, adopting her as a part of it. Her time with them is always bittersweet, he has something she can never have, but was she never given the choice about having a family. Though given her state of mind at the time and the control they had over her, if her handlers at the Red Room had asked she isn't sure how she would have answered. Part of her wishes Barton was here, but a bigger part is glad he's not, because she has no idea how to explain what is going inside her heart. She could use his guidance if she was able to talk about it.

" _I think I have a crush on Banner, and the Hulk is kind of sweet."_

She's sure he'd be doing some cognitive recalibration of his own.

"He's interesting," Natasha answers Bruce finally, shaking away her thoughts. Fascinating would be more accurate but semantics aren't everything.

"I know what you're going to suggest," Bruce returns, dropping the preamble.

"Saves me from saying it out loud then," Natasha quips. "I think it's worth a shot," Natasha adds honestly. He's not stupid and she hasn't exactly been subtle. She hasn't avoided talking about it, she hasn't suggested it herself. "The Big Guy," she breathes, "was amazing out there today."

Her face warms as she remembers sitting in the sun with the Hulk. Quiet and reflective. He didn't interact with her that much, giving her time to solidify her idea. He grew slightly restless when the military task force arrived, but he was easily calmed with a few words from Natasha. After that they sat like that for a good hour before he started to shrink, his green skin giving away to blushing pink till she was sitting with a disorientated Bruce who recovered from his haze quickly and stomped back to the jet without speaking to her.

"I never intended to suggest this Bruce. I wouldn't lie about this, I know how important this is to you."

"You've been upfront in the past. You always said if Fury had asked you to persuade me, you would." He sips his tea.

Natasha nods even though he can't see her. Ignoring the little pull in her chest at the mention of her former boss. "He never did," she promises again.

Fury was more interested in what Bruce could offer as a scientist, while refusing to trust the Hulk around his precious agents. It took a lot to figure out how to contain the Big Guy if Bruce couldn't maintain control. The Cage would've only held him for a short while if what Thor managed to do to it with Mjolnir was any indication. But it would have given them time to evacuate their unnecessary agents from his vicinity.

Her plan has nothing to do with the absent, former SHIELD director, and everything to do with the man in front of her. "You don't have to be afraid Bruce; he's been consistently in control during your latest transformations. His focus has been on the enemy, no one else and none of them sustained life threatening injuries – whiplash and the odd broken bone. The rest of the team did more damage than he did. The Hulk is exercising restraint, something I believe is being influenced by you."

Bruce shakes his head at that in disbelief. "You can't say that for definite, neither can I."

"He's even saved lives. Stark, in New York. Today, mine."

Bruce ignores the titbit she tacked on at the end and continues to resist her reasoning. "There's still no way to stop him."

"Then maybe you should let us try."

"No."

"You're not even willing to try," she seethes at him. Her frustration building by the second. "Sometimes I think you're more afraid that we'll be able to stop him, and you won't be able to hide behind him as an excuse."

"He almost—" Bruce starts to argue but has difficulty saying the words.

"Killed me," she provides bluntly. "I know Bruce, I was there but that was months ago."

"Then why do you insist this is a good idea?" He swirls around to face her.

"He saved me today! And because you're more capable than you pretend to be," Natasha argues back. "I wish you would stop using that as an excuse."

"You expect me to fight! You always have, _and_ you've been letting me think it was my choice."

"If you really believe that, you'd be half way around the world Bruce. If _he_ believed that, he wouldn't let _me_ anywhere near _you_." Her voice raises as she stalks toward him. "It _is_ your choice Bruce, and you've already made it. You just keep pretending you haven't because you can't accept it."

He steps forward to meet her, his fist curling as he struggles with his temper. "Natasha," he warns.

"No," she defies. She's tried everything else, this is a chance she's got to take. "You wouldn't have come with us if you weren't ready."

"Natasha," he says again.

"No," Natasha hisses. "You told me I keep thinking of myself as a spy and you're right, I do. But I'm not the only one who can't shake their past life. You keep thinking of yourself as a monster and you're not, neither is he. You proved it out there," she gestures behind him at the city. "Twice. And for a third time earlier."

"No!" Bruce shouts, his eyes flashing.

She half expects to see sparks of luminous green and instead she sees the fine control he's mastered as he refuses to unleash his angry side. Instead Natasha stand steadfast, unwilling to flinch and back down. Not this time. Bruce seems to freeze, staring at her as his deep breathing makes his nostrils flare a fraction.

"Is everything okay out here?" Steve asks from the doorway behind her.

Natasha doesn't remove her eyes from Bruce, yet his flicker to their intruder.

"I've lived here for years, but I've never been this fascinated by the view. Thought we'd figure out what all the fuss was about," Tony says as she hears them step out onto the roof.

Correct that, _intruders_.

She feels their eyes aimed at her back as Bruce meets her gaze again for a beat, his frustration ebbing.

"You guys usually referee our bickering," the billionaire continues as he and Steve draw closer.

"This sounded a little more than bickering," Steve tells him, yet directs it at Natasha and Bruce, his concern clear.

"Bicker, banter," Tony retorts. "Lovers' quarrel," he adds under his breath.

"Tony," Bruce admonishes before Natasha can, the last dig hitting a little close for comfort. "I was just going; I've got simulations running in the lab."

With that he sidesteps Natasha and leaves her with their friends. They let him run without comment. His footsteps growing quieter the further he gets. She counts off in her head, giving him enough time to pace through the living room. As soon as she hears the tell-tale metal clinking of his shoes as he reaches the staircase, she knows he's far enough away that she won't run into him again, and she spins and pushes through the other two men, leaving the roof without another word.

…

Bruce's fingers pause over the keys on his laptop, taking a moment to process the information in front of him. The words string together, blurring on the screen, his anger affecting his eyes and blocking his ability to reach any intelligent conclusions from the data Tony used to calculate the force required for the prototype Hulkbuster piston arm attachment he's making "out of curiosity". He slumps back in his chair, feeling like a failure once more today. This should've refocused his mind but it just confounds him further.

Giving up, he taps another key on his keyboard, and soft strands of music seep from the speakers. The sombre instrumental washes over him as he lays his head on the rest of his chair and closes his eyes, trying to empty his mind. Blindly he reaches up to remove his glasses and wipes his eyes with his other hand. Breathing evenly for several minutes eases him into a lull, syncing his heartbeat with his breathing. He manages to relax completely for what feels like several minutes before a soft cough interrupts him from the doorway.

"You got a minute, Banner?"

Opening his eyes on an exhale he sees Steve hovering in the doorway. Bruce always notices how the super-soldier looks more comfortable in his suit than his civilian clothes and the scientist suspects Steve only changes to fit in with those around him, making them comfortable around him. Yet right now, dressed in jeans and a checked shirt, he looks downright awkward. If it weren't for the decisive glint in his eye, Bruce would think he's about to turn on his heel and march away.

Unfortunately for Bruce, Steve does the opposite and steps into the room, dragging the spare computer chair away from the other workstation close to Bruce's desk.

"I was expecting Tony," Bruce says by way of greeting.

"Yeah," Steve agrees, blushing brighter than Bruce does when. "He was coming, but he got side tracked because Thor had a question about knots." He pauses. "Then Pepper arrived and Tony being Tony..." Steve trails off leaving Bruce to imagine how the rest of the conversation went.

Bruce fails to fight the smile which forms at the thought, if only because of how his friend will try to talk himself out of the hole he's dug himself into. It's a conversation Bruce wishes he was privy to. He glances at Steve out of the corner of his eye, and holds back the chuckle at his expression, figuring the talk was far too revealing for Steve's taste.

The two of them don't have much in common; Steve feels out of place in the middle of the lab while Bruce is grounded by science; Steve feels at home in the midst of a battle while Bruce blunders through it if he has to. Still they have found some common ground since the soldier moved into the Tower, bonding over their dislike of the chaotic modern life and their weariness of the Hulk. Neither of them like the idea of him being in the middle of the fight, too unpredictable for Steve, too dangerous for Bruce. While some think Steve was a little harsh when they met, discouraging any little thing which could provoke a transformation, Bruce appreciates his concern and honesty. He knows Steve's reservations were down to his lack of understanding Bruce's triggers and the science involved rather than actual malice. Steve has never asked him about what sets him off, though with Steve's search for his long-lost friend they haven't really spent time with each other to talk about it or any other interests with they could possibly bond over.

Which leaves Bruce questioning the motives behind his sudden appearance. If anything, he expected Steve to talk to Natasha rather than him, after their heated exchange. They're better friends, and Bruce assumed Steve would get her version of what happened before talking to him. He basically abandoned her to their scrutiny and questions. Though, he supposes Natasha could've just as easily walked away from them, denying Steve the opportunity to talk to her.

Bruce was the one in the wrong, and shouting at her when Steve and Tony interrupted. They usually give him the space he needs to calm down, one of the upsides of occasionally turning in to a huge rage monster. Bruce sighs; all he seems to be doing lately is alternating between being pleasantly surprised by her presence in his life, and being annoyed by her persistent need to risk herself when he transforms.

"You should think about what she's trying to say," Steve starts gently. Bruce flashes him a look he hopes will stop whatever talk he's about to bestow. Steve remains unmoved by it.

"Yet you don't believe the Other Guy is stable enough in the field," Bruce counters.

"You're right, I based that original presumption upon the footage I'd seen before I met you or him, and I still think that to some degree. But I've got to admit, he isn't as out of control as I thought, and it's nice having someone that powerful backing your play."

"Have you figured out a contingency if he's the one who you have to fight?"

"No," Steve chuckles. "But I think Nat has it covered. He listens to her. I mean he's aware of the rest of us, and instinctively knows how to work with us, but when she approached him earlier it was like a switch flipped and he relaxed," Steve pauses and double checks' Bruce's reaction. "I don't know how else to define it, or really understand it, I'm not going to pretend I do or even try to. Somethings just happen that just defy any explanation."

"And if I asked you to? I can't remember any of this, Steve and I need someone else to be objective."

"We can show you the recordings from the Jet," Steve offers.

"I can't see beyond the rage, no matter his intention. I'll always find fault in the footage. I'm biased here Steve, I need a neutral, trusted opinion." Bruce isn't above a little manipulation himself, using the word 'trusted' would appeal to Steve's hero complex in his time of need. "Please."

"I guess he reacts to her, because you do," Steve replies after a long thirty seconds. "Because she reacts to you."

"She does?" Bruce questions while trying to hide his surprise, and not think of the kiss she initiated. Unfortunately, Steve sees right through it.

"Yeah," he offers kindly. "You have an easy way with each other, which neither of you force. It's nice to watch, considering the way things are going." Steve gives him look he can't decipher and adds, "If it helps, I don't think Nat suggested this because it's part of SHIELD's grand scheme. She made an observation while working with you and the Hulk, and is now trying to use it to help you."

"Do you agree with it?" Bruce asks.

"Yes," the soldier says without hesitation. "Nat is one of the best strategists I've ever known, and it's difficult for her to switch that side off."

"Don't ever play chess against her," Bruce advises with a wince, remembering the terrible loss to her weeks ago.

"What I'm trying to say is she's not playing you," Steve clarifies. "I had my doubts when I first worked with her, and she proved me wrong. And now I've been around her long enough to see through her defences. At first, I thought it was about SHIELD, distracting herself from everything that happened but I don't think it is. I've never seen her be like this with anyone which means you're different."

" _You're different."_

" _We're different."_

Steve isn't one to divulge his friend's secrets, and admitting that much is telling more happened between him and Natasha than either of them admitted to during their time in DC. But until she chooses to divulge that to him, Bruce isn't going to call them on it. It's obviously something Natasha doesn't want to discuss. If she chooses to tell Bruce, it's up to her.

"Just consider her plan from her perspective, and why she's proposing it." Steve stands, sensing this is the right place to finish their conversation, and starts to walk backward toward the exit, leaving Bruce with the parting words, "When you talk to her later, do so gently."

…

It's almost one o'clock in the morning when she steps out of her shower. Wrapping a towel around her body she walks into her room to dress for bed. She ignores the droplets falling from her wet hair onto her bare shoulders as she roots in the draws beside the bed for a tank top and shorts. She drops the towel onto the bed and slips the shorts on over underwear she selected. She picks up the tank top and starts to roll it up her arms when a soft knock stops her.

"Natasha," Bruce calls from the other side of her door. "Are you awake?"

She looks up, his voice may be muffled by the thick door but she can hear the apology in his tone.

"Yeah, give me a minute," she calls back.

"I can come back in the morning," he offers.

"No!" Her voice comes out louder, and more forceful than she intends. She swiftly puts the tank top over her head as she strides to the door. The tank settles on her stomach just as her hand circles the door knob to pull it open to find him standing on the other side wearing his 'deer in headlights' expression. "It's taken this long for you to work up the nerve to knock, if you go now you won't come back," Natasha explains huskily. "I was just getting dressed."

"So I see," Bruce says and fidgets on the spot, glancing at her damp hair and make-up free face while steadfastly ignoring her outfit. She would find it mildly amusing if not for their last conversation. "I wanted to apologise for the way I behaved earlier," he continues.

There's no stammering, just pure confidence and honesty in his words and that's what gets him through the door. She holds it wider, inviting him in and shuts it behind him with a loud click. He waivers a few feet in. She lets him ponder a little longer and steps around him to pick up the discarded towel to press the excess water from her hair.

She tries not to smile as he flounders a little at being in her private room, and she realises it's the first time either have entered the other's bedroom, yet she's better at hiding her sudden mindfulness of the setting. All of their previous interactions have occurred in the common living areas even if they found themselves alone most of the time. She's not messy, not by any means, but with just the lamps and closed door, it seems all the more personal. Unwilling to let them fall into a stalemate, she directs him "Take a seat," and leaves him to decide between the chair and the bed.

Bruce looks between the pieces of furniture and decides on the bed, shocking her a little with the move. Natasha weighs up her own options, she could sit next to him or in the chair opposite. She goes into the bathroom to hang the damp towel on the rack, intending to come out and sit in the chair. Except she meets Bruce's gaze when she returns to the doorway her feet carry her to him and she delicately perches on the half of the bed he's left free for her, leaving a good amount of space between them.

"I shouldn't have shouted at you," he starts.

"You weren't the only one raising their voice," Natasha points out.

"Yeah but you are trying to help, and I jumped to conclusions based on assumptions without really thinking through what _you_ are trying to offer me or why. And that it has more to do with you than me."

Natasha regrets her choice of the bed over the chair and wishes she could make the switch. "I projected," she admits. "I was trying to offer you some sort of redemption, I just thought with the Hulk starting to work with us now would be a good time to suggest it."

"I'm not you Natasha," Bruce points out.

She'd taken note of their similarities and ran with them, not realising Bruce isn't ready to accept the idea of redemption.

"I do appreciate what you want to achieve, but I'm never going to be a hero," he shuffles a little so he is half facing her. "Not like you."

"I hate to destroy that little delusion of yours, but you're already a hero Bruce," Natasha tells him. "You saved four lives today, including mine."

She waits for the realisation to sink in, his slack expression slowly evolving contemplative surprise. She offers him a soft smile when he meets her eyes again, his gratitude and reserved resignation. The moment lingers, and she feels the pull she felt the night she kissed him. Bruce must feel it too as they both start to lean in.

Her senses are filled by his proximity. She smells the faint whiff of aftershave he must have put on after showering, feels his breath on her face but she keeps her eyes on his, her heart thundering in her chest, unwilling to control it, she continues to move closer till their noses graze. Her eyes flutter closed, their lips barely touching when she pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as she pushes up from her bed and steps away to put some distance between them.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong Bruce, I-uh-I," Natasha wrings her hands as she tries to explain. "You're not the only one who's sorry. I just realised that if I kiss you now you'll always question if I was manipulating you or if the kiss was real. You won't mean to, but you will."

"You don't know that," Bruce tries to reassure her.

"I do," she tells him. "Because I would."

"I guess we're more alike than we realise," Bruce smiles sadly, making her feel worse rather than better. "So, no kissing then."

Natasha nods resolutely, taking in his dejected shoulders, feeling it herself and can't help adding a qualifier, "Well, not until you can trust me."

His eyes snap to hers, his brow raised in silent question. They've been over this before. "It's not you I don't trust."

"Not with him. Not yet," she points out. She fights the urge slide her fingers along his jaw to tilt his head to the right angle before dropping her lips to his.

Instead she drops into the chair and watches him come to a conclusion. "But you're good with him. Independent witnesses verify what you and Tony have been trying to tell me."

"'Independent witnesses'?" She questions teasingly, cocking her head to the side.

"Steve and Thor," Bruce provides. "I just don't have a first-hand experience to trust in myself."

"We have footage Bruce," Natasha reminds him, stepping back from him giving them some distance.

"It's not good enough," he counters.

"Will it ever be?"

"Probably not, there's always going to be some measure of reservation when it comes to him," Bruce agrees. "But I'm a scientist, not a fighter, and I need to investigate a phenomena, to acquire new knowledge, or correct and integrate previous knowledge before I believe in something."

"You're willing to test it?" Natasha asks to make sure she's hearing him correctly. He hesitates over the direct question even though he's hedging on agreeing with her.

"With safety measures in place," he finally agrees. "You can try to talk him into transforming back."

She doesn't greet his assent with any kind of enthusiasm or gratitude, it would likely make him rethink his consent. A decision of this magnitude deserves some time to sink in, especially for Bruce. Acknowledgement of such would trigger his skittish nature. That doesn't mean she isn't proud of him, his bravery to expose himself to all the things he's terrified of. It's a huge admission for him and hopes she can do it justice rather than fail him. The amount of faith he's putting in her is almost overwhelming, so much so she doesn't trust herself to speak at the moment so she lets silence ensue and Natasha watches him idly glance around her room.

It's a sparse room, no personal belongings besides clothes. All of those are kept in Barton's spare bedroom, alongside all of the photos of Lila and Cooper, all of the pictures they drew for her, all of the keepsakes from their times together that she would never take with her when she left. Nothing which would ever lead an enemy back to them. Aside from her laptop or phone charger and the hand guns she taped to the back of the head rest and the underside of the desk, and some clothes, nothing else in the room belonged to her.

Moving back toward the bed, she scoops up the damp towel and folds it as she walks to place it on the towel rack in the bathroom. Returning to the doorway she finds Bruce watching her from the bed, a pensive expression on his face and her stomach drops. "You've changed your mind already?" Natasha sighs.

"No, no, I just…" Bruce trails of to collect his thoughts. "I was just thinking about me, him and how people see us."

"What do you mean?" She steps forward.

"People don't see the difference," he balks, looking confused with his own admission. "I don't know myself really." He stands and moves toward the door. "It doesn't matter and it's late."

"You don't have to go Bruce," Natasha says, moving behind him.

"No, you were getting ready for bed, I should—" he gestures at the door, stepping forward to place his hand on the handle.

"I don't have a problem separating you from him Bruce," Natasha tells him. He isn't the Hulk, and the Hulk isn't him. She knows what he's trying to say even if he doesn't. It's exactly how she feels since she released her files onto the net, she wants people to see beyond what she's done in the past, see beyond her skill set.

"You really don't, do you?" Bruce whispers, staring intently at her face. His warm brown eyes full of wonder as if he's just figuring it out. Natasha shakes her head to answer him. His feet shift like he's about to take a step toward her but it snaps him out of his reverie. He shakes his head a little before clearing his throat. "No one else makes the distinction between us," Bruce confesses.

"Glad to be the first," she quips. He blusters, his mouth tries to form words but he can't quite manage it and she realises he doesn't see the dividing line either, his knack for self-loathing projecting back from his feelings toward the Hulk. Unbidden, her hand lifts to his cheek, turning his eyes to her. She expects him to flinch or move away, yet instead he leans in to her touch by a fraction, the warmth of his skin welcoming her cool hand. Her heart kicks up a notch. He's so close, closer than he was on her bed, and it's testing her resolve. It would be so easy to close the distance. "I can see the similarities too," this time she smiles sadly.

"What? Our temper?" He tries to deflect from the sudden reddening of his face.

"No," her smile brightens for a flash. "Small things, nothing anyone would see unless you let them. Physically, you have the same stance sometimes, your focus, also you both appreciate a great view, especially if it's a setting sun," she says thinking of the sun.

He frowns a little at that but it's just a wrinkle in his brow. Her thumb moves of its own accord and strokes the edge of his cheek bone, just under his eye. His features relax at the soothing gesture. "Your eyes are always the first thing to change in a transformation," she tells him. "Either yours turn green, or his turn brown before anything else changes, it's how I know you're coming back."

His eyes widen a tad at her observation and when she thinks he's about to withdraw a hand settles on her hip. She sighs and her eyes drop closed as she moves into his embrace, unwilling to fight the pull. Her hand drops to his neck, guiding him, encouraging him as their cheeks brush and noses graze. "I thought—" she starts to say with an undignified, uncharacteristic groan but he shushes her.

"You're thinking too much," he says before capturing her lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author Note – Please forgive me, it's been a while. After the last two chapters, all of my ideas for this story became a mess in my head and it took a while for me to focus enough to write this chapter. In the meantime, I did write a few other stories to try and kick start it –** _ **Dangling by a Thread**_ **and** _ **Spies and Scientists**_ **– for those of you following** _ **Spies and Scientists,**_ **I do have another chapter planned.**

 **Big thanks to my beta, Black' Victor Cachat who has been nothing but supportive and patient with me and my ideas, not just for this story.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter ten

' _As long as one can think as an outsider, an observer apart from the conflict, there is hope for a resolving thought.' ―_ _R. N. Prasher_

She inhales the subtly scented air and smells the earthiness of pine and the grass, relishing the freshness from the lack of pollution she has become accustomed to in the city. Squealing tires and honking horns have been replaced by birds tweeting and the calls of her team mates down on the ground.

From where Natasha is watching the Hulk, she has a good view of the surrounding trees and the only – deserted— road into the compound over five hundred metres away from the far end. It would be picturesque and serene, if it weren't for the Avengers playing tag with the Hulk. Bruce would enjoy the view from where she is standing and tells herself they'll probably be huddled up here in a few hours, after the sun sets, looking at the stars which are beyond the fog of New York. It'll be a good way for him to relax after this transformation.

Natasha lands on her feet as she drops down from the roof platform where she and Clint had been observing from above the Big Guy as he rattled around the field without much to do except stomp. Bruce had transformed little over an hour ago and the Hulk basically had the run of the large field next to Starks' empty warehouse in upstate New York.

Thor runs the perimeter with Steve as back up, making a game of it whenever they turned the Hulk back toward the warehouse, to try and use up some of his excess energy while not turning it into a fight. They were enjoying it as much as the Hulk. The Big Guy engages them a few times, but even from Natasha's vantage point it was clear he wasn't using much effort, and she found his rare playfulness endearing, smiling softly at the sight.

While it's interesting to watch their game, that isn't what she's watching for. She could be closer, people would probably doubt what she can see from this far. It's an opportunity she couldn't pass up though. She's rarely seen him from a distance; she's usually in the field beside him engaging in her own fight to really appreciate his stamina. The contained strength she witnessed first-hand in the helicarrier is almost mesmerising from afar. She has time before she needs to get a closer look.

From his movements, she knows the Hulk is too wired right now to even start de-hulking; there's nothing sluggish about the way he moves around the field after Thor. His footwork is sure and strong, steady as he moves between Thor and Steve. He's not graceful, but not uncoordinated either. She can anticipate, she can move fluidly, she is deadly, but it was trained into her. Following his instincts is all he has – he was never trained nor does he need to be – it's something a seasoned fighter like Natasha can only strive to emulate.

She must make some sort of foreign sound as Clint turns his head toward her, the camera recording this fun is steady in his hands, his forehead twitching in silent askance. She shakes her head minutely, he doesn't need to know what she's thinking about.

She retreats to the roof access, taking the stairs two at a time down the enclosed stairwell accessing the large warehouse. Once her feet hit the ground she pushes through the double doors and is greeted by the sight of Tony, in one of his suits in front of the open front of Veronica, ready to merge both suits into one. Her muscles tighten as she realises what he intends to do. This isn't going to end well.

He isn't scheduled to test the supersized suit till tomorrow. Natasha doesn't hesitate as she strides toward the billionaire, calling him out as she does. "Stark, what are you doing?"

His face plate flips up as the repulsors change direction, turning toward her as he hovers metres above the floor. "I was going out to play with the others, _Mom_ ," he jokes.

"No," she orders, ignoring his crack. "You said you're testing the suit tomorrow."

"Yeah, but this is a great opportunity for the Big Guy to get used to Veronica," he argues.

"You promised Bruce," Natasha counters.

She and the others had witnessed that very conversation over breakfast, with Bruce becoming unnerved by the idea of Tony trying to _play_ with the Hulk in _that_ suit. Bruce voiced his worry that the sheer size of it would agitate the Hulk, the other guy seeing it as a challenge to his position with the team. They hadn't worked out all of the kinks, and he was concerned for Tony's safety.

She's only seen diagrams previously but seeing the real-life proportions now, Natasha can see why the Hulk will see it as a threat, the metal giant is a few feet taller with a bulkier frame. And it'll destroy all of the work the rest of the team has achieved with the Big Guy. If he engages Veronica, the others will need to step in and protect Stark if necessary. Any trust the Hulk has in them will be betrayed and they'll never earn it back.

Any chance they have to help Bruce will be ruined.

She can't let that happen to Bruce or the Big Guy.

Her fingers tease the EMP discs at her waist, ready to throw them if need be. Stark eyes the movement, then deliberately meets her steady gaze. They have a silent stand-off, her footsteps as sure as his fixed hover. Natasha won't relent, not that she'd ever give Stark the satisfaction in any other situation, because this is too important to Bruce to go wrong.

Natasha knows Bruce is important to Stark, their strangely engaging friendship has mellowed her own opinion and attitude toward the billionaire she met all those years ago. Unfortunately, Stark's still too impulsive for his own good sometimes. It's too easy for him to become reckless, as he doesn't think through the ramifications, usually putting others in danger, and it never ends well. He's usually left shouldering another bout of guilt and self-loathing which more than likely trigger his PTSD. There's no use reminding him of that, he'll dig his heels in.

"Let Bruce have today, Stark," Natasha reasons instead with a voice full of emotion. Unforced, unbidden, honest. "Don't ruin it by getting your ass kicked," she adds, daring him to try. Sometimes the urge to hit him is too overwhelming to fight.

"By you or the Big Guy?" He questions full of bravado with a quick glance at the devices on her waist. He should know by now she has set her mind to succeeding. If she has to take him out in the process, she will. The tough part would be stopping shy of killing him.

"Your choice." From her, it is a fair warning.

He holds her stare for a minute before he lowers slowly to the ground. "So, if this doesn't work, what damage do you think the false hope you've been feeding him will do in the long run?" His gaze flutters over her features.

"If you were this concerned, you should've said something before."

"We've got time, he's playing with Thor," Tony retorts as the suit front opens and he steps out, wearing a shirt and sweats.

A strong impulse to check the warehouse entrance overcomes her, but she refrains at the last second so not to give herself away to Stark. She relents but refuses to drop her hand from the EMP's at her waist. If they fail, she can always hack the suits again. "Clock's ticking, say what you've got to say Stark."

"First off, do not misunderstand me, I fully support this endeavour to pull a Beauty and the Beast on the Big Guy. Though I do question who's the beast in this scenario," he immediately holds his hands up in a pacifying gesture. It does nothing to soothe Natasha's mood, nor her mind which is busy searching for a way for her to justifiably kill Stark under terms of the Legionnaire agreement all of the Avengers' approved of. So far, she's drawing a blank. "I just want to know if you have a plan, or if you're just winging it. You haven't exactly been clear with how you're going to do what you want to do. Which is why I'm surprised Bruce agreed to let you do this without knowing the details."

"You've never been one to shy away from winging it," she replies with a smirk.

The same thing occurred to her. After agreeing, Bruce didn't press her for details. He didn't exactly withdraw but he is more reflective than normal and she didn't want to force him to talk about it in case he changed his mind.

Other than a goal, she hasn't really got a plan. She thought about it, except as Bruce and others have attested on several occasions, the Hulk is too unpredictable; it will be easier to follow his flow, than force him to change. Her aim is to monitor how he winds down, what signs the Hulk gives prior to changing back to Bruce, something she would be doing now if she had not run into Stark being so irresponsible, so she can judge her approach in the future.

Natasha doesn't expect to be successful on the first attempt, something she neglected to share with Bruce and knows he'll be disheartened by the lack of success. She kept that information from him because she didn't want him to change his mind at the last minute. It's not like she's worried about interacting with the Big Guy, aside from the first encounter their one on one time has been fairly positive which is why she is confident this time will be no different.

"I've always been a fan of good improv, but what about if the Hulk doesn't like being told playtime is over?" Stark prompts her when she doesn't supply him with an answer.

"Then it's his decision," Natasha harshly whispers. "Just like it is his decision to test this like this. You know he appreciates everything you've done for him, but this is Bruce's life, Stark, you don't get a say in it."

"Careful Red, you sound a little territorial there," Stark warns knowingly, coupled with a slight curve of his lips, neither triumphant nor teasing, which she finds more unnerving than a cocky grin. "How far are you willing to go to fix this for him?"

 _He knows._

Or at least he _thinks_ he knows something.

He probably does, Natasha concedes, but she won't confirm anything verbally. Her silence does it for her. She does feel territorial, about Bruce, about the Hulk, and she's not ready to qualify any of those feelings to herself and least of all Stark. She doesn't want to explain the kisses they've shared or the foreign feelings they induce.

"He doesn't need to be fixed, he's not broken," she informs him as she spins on her heel and stomps across the warehouse. However, she still notes the incredulity, hinging on sympathy, on Stark's face, as opposed to the triumph she expected. He doesn't call her back, or try to continue the conversation. He's gotten enough out of her already, and anything else will cost him.

 _And her._

She's getting sloppy, she decides as she takes a deep breath before pushing through the door to the field.

She has no chance to find her centre as she's confronted by the Hulk landing in front of her, the ground taking the brunt of the impact. He huffs out a breath, his lips curling upward in his approximation of a smile. A wave of protectiveness surges through her as she pauses and the door shuts loudly behind her- that coupled with Stark's insights- causing her to blink a few times.

Natasha refocuses on his face and watches it morphing from the happy expression to a curious, questioning one. His head tilts to the side, mouth twitching as if he's trying to find the words to ask her what's wrong. Her emotions put him on edge immediately as he rears back slightly, straightening his back as he sniffs the air in confusion.

She lifts her hand to draw his attention back to her, silently cursing Stark in her mind. "I'm okay Big Guy."

Her words do little to reassure him, and he eyes her warily for a long thirty seconds; too long for her, too long for the rest of the team as they flank him. Thor is curious to see their interaction, while the look on Steve's face stands out the most; she can see his mind working out a strategy to get between her and the Hulk if necessary. It was too bad he was behind the Big Guy, and unable to see the concern moulded onto the green face, so he would know a plan isn't needed. She can't signal Steve to tell him to back off, she doesn't want to draw attention to the super-soldier.

"You been playing with Thor, huh?" Instead she soothes the Hulk. She needs him to concentrate on her.

The question doesn't distract him, his focus –like Bruce's– is as intense as ever, but he answers her in his own way with a huff, and a slight incline of his head in the Gods' direction.

"Having fun without me?" She tries to tease but he doesn't buy into her joke. Nonplussed by her humour he peers curiously at her, and she half expects him to cross his arms over his chest and sulk.

"It has been tremendous fun," Thor confirms while hefting Mjolnir. The Hulk sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and twitches. He's not overly fond of the hammer, even if he's come around to liking Thor. "It is always exhilarating to face a warrior such as the Hulk."

Natasha lifts her chin a touch to acknowledge the words, yet doesn't say anything else. She never has an issue with being the focus during a mission, she adapts to the situation. Except now she can literally feel all of their eyes on her, an air of expectation radiating from all of them including the Big Guy. She refuses to let a bout of glorified stage fright to get to her.

All of her life she's been used as a trigger, being pointed at a target and never missing. She hasn't lost her determination or ability to finish a job, her methods have been moderated and adapted to whatever mission she was given. Until Clint intervened. The most precious gift he gave her was her independence; her ability to make her own decisions. To be the one to call the shots and dictate what would happen.

Steve seems to pick up on her non-verbal cues, but not before the Hulk does. Just like Bruce. He always picks up on her feelings, no matter what façade she's trying to project. Just like Bruce. She watches him pivot so his back is to her and slumps to the ground. His arms cross across his chest as if protesting her mood. Without his scrutiny she manages to signal Steve and Thor to give them some space.

Their teammates back off to the edge of the field, looking dubious while trusting her judgement. Noting his position now, she realises he almost protectively put himself between her and the rest of the team. She's mildly offended, and wants to remind him she can defend herself, except she isn't sure how well he'll take it when she's still feeling a little off herself.

His head tilts toward the sky, searching for the sun amongst the clouds. It's late October, and the mist has been drifting in and out all day. He squints, growling softly, but still the sun evades him.

"Sun's low," she murmurs lowly and his ear flicks, his shoulders drooping as he drops his gaze to his hands.

She takes a steadying breath before stepping around the Hulk, surreptitiously eyeing the large expanse of his green back muscles. Natasha marvels at the power contained in his body, and all he's capable of. And how careful he can be in his quiet moments. No one really knows the Hulk.

In the past he's come and gone in rampages. Interchanging with Bruce, no one looks past the destruction or the rage to give him the benefit of doubt. Natasha isn't overlooking that facet of his demeanour nor does she hold any pretences over what he's able to become; she is fully aware of what it's like to run from him. But there's more to him than the monster everyone runs from, and she wishes more people could see it.

The truth is that the intensity she feels when she's near him is dizzying. A little heady sensation rushes through her, a spark ignites in her stomach. She's hyper aware of him, not dissimilar to when she's fighting and her senses are heightened by adrenaline, where everything is vivid. Her hand rises as she moves level with his shoulder and barely skims his flesh. His head jerks toward her and their gazes hold.

"Easy Big Guy," she mollifies. "Just me."

The Hulk relaxes a tad but she can see the confusion in his expression as he lets her touch him. Her hand travels over his bicep, the dip of his elbow. Her eyes never leave his face, catching the little twitch as the pads of her fingers glide on his skin. His eyes widen at the sensation; she can feel his pulse racing under his skin, just as she feels her own heart thumping in her chest. She wants to say something to break the thick heady atmosphere enfolding them, exhilarating and calming all at once. She half expects him to move away, instead he unfolds his arm for her fingertips trail along his forearm to his wrist. His hand jerks and his fingers flex. She pauses, her breath catching at the sight of him.

Imploring her to either stop or finish what she started, she doesn't know which. Ever so slowly she feels his hand open under hers. Just as slowly, her fingers finish their journey over his palm, smooth and surprisingly callous free, down to his fingertips.

"We're not going to hurt you or Bruce, I think you know that. We're not going to let anyone hurt you, they'll have to go through me," Natasha tells him, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes widen a fraction in comprehension. His chest heaves and her breath catches at his startled reaction to her promise. She holds his gaze, surprised by her own words and the vehemence with which she uttered them. Her introspection is short lived as the Hulk slips his hand away and carefully lifts up to go and join Thor at the edge of the field.

* * *

Bruce wanders out of his room after his shower and changing into fresh clothes. Their quarters for the weekend consist of rooms with Tony had built for the staff who would have to be in the warehouse overnight when it was operational. While the bedrooms are all fitted with wardrobes and comfortable mattresses, the other amenities Tony provides for his staff where moved out when he closed the warehouse. Though they brought more than enough supplies for the weekend, a ton of food sits in the kitchen at the end of the hall and a new couch and entertainment centre were set up in a common room.

Walking down the corridor, his head is a little foggy and he feels drained of energy. Unlike the Tower he can't hear the rest of the team in other areas of the warehouse. There is no noise, none of the sounds he's gotten used to. If he didn't need answers, he'd head back to his room to get some rest. He's not exactly sure what happened except that Natasha wasn't successful in changing him back. She hadn't said much after he regained consciousness, just slipped away before he could ask her to stay. He wanted her to stay.

His stomach rumbles and he drifts toward the small kitchen where he finds Barton sitting on the counter snacking a bag of chips as he holds his phone in his other hand as if waiting for it to ring. As soon as Bruce hesitates the archer turns his attention on him. Busted.

"Banner," Barton greets with a nod.

"Barton," Bruce returns trying to act natural. After that they lull into a stalemate, they barely interact as it is and whenever they do typically it's in a team setting. They've never found themselves having to make any kind of conversation no matter how trivial, someone usually saves them from it, usually Tony or Natasha.

Barton is Natasha's best friend and Bruce has no idea if she's said anything about them to him. But the other man hasn't said anything to him, nothing more than his usual surname greeting anyway. When they first met, Bruce assumed there was more to them than they were admitting but Natasha has since dispelled that notion when she actively encouraged him to take her to dinner.

"You looking for Nat?" Barton asks conversationally and for a second Bruce automatically assumes the question means more than the innocent face value but then he realises Barton probably only asked it for Bruce's sake to cover the silence.

"Um, yeah," Bruce agrees and his stomach rumbles again. "Well, and food."

"Do you always get hungry after?" Barton gestures vaguely in the direction of outside, his interest piqued. Bruce follows his gesture and realises he's asking about his transformations.

"Not usually, usually I need to rest, but I can't remember eating breakfast this morning," Bruce huffs out with a self-depreciating smile. He'd been too nervous this morning to eat. Barton actually cracks a conciliatory smile and holds out the bag of chips to him. Bruce takes a few and pops one in his mouth.

They crunch and chew for a few minutes before Barton breaks the silence. "Nat said you'd want to see the footage," he starts evenly. "I already uploaded it into JARVIS."

"Yeah, thanks for recording it," Bruce nods. Actually, he's afraid to watch it, not sure if he wants to know what happened and if it's linked to Natasha's notable absence.

Barton eyes him for a beat then shrugs. "No big deal, figured I better touch base with the team at some point, right? Don't want to miss all the fun."

He is rarely with the team, rivalling only Thor who has a reasonable excuse because he lives on another planet. Natasha doesn't offer any explanations on behalf of her partner nor does she seem bothered by his non-attendance so Bruce decides not to comment on it.

"With Stark involved, I kinda expected a rave in the middle of nowhere," Barton tacks on.

"Sorry to disappoint you, though the weekend's not over. Wait until he's front and centre while testing Veronica tomorrow." Barton grins and nods his head, happily surprised with Bruce's theory. Bruce moves to the cupboard which contains the tea and coffee, grabbing himself a cup from the draining board as he passes. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"

Barton nods his head to the side of him where his cup is still half full. "No disappointment, just a different kind of party Doc," he assures him. Bruce flips the switch on the kettle. "Sounds like it's a riot at the Tower though."

"Sometimes," Bruce smirks. The water boils and he pours it into his cup.

"Nat probably would've killed Stark by now if it weren't for you," Barton laughs.

"Goes both ways sometimes," Bruce says carefully. "She's a good listener."

"Yeah, solid with advice too," the archer agrees. "Once she sets her mind to something, nothing stops her."

"Beginning to realise that," the scientist concurs. Then the curiosity gets to him. "Do you know where she went?"

Barton narrows his eyes a fraction. "You should probably watch the recording before you talk to her," he advices cautiously.

"Did something happen?" Comes Bruce's anxious question. If it went smoothly, Natasha would've been there to help him transition.

"Not per say, it's hard to explain, probably better if you see it with your own eyes." His phone starts ringing and he checks the caller ID. "Sorry Doc, I gotta take this call," he hefts the phone and goes to the door, call over his shoulder, "By the way, Nat headed up to the roof."

Bruce waits for him to get out of ear shot before pulling out his tablet. "JARVIS, play the footage Barton uploaded."

* * *

That night, Natasha sits upon the roof of Starks' warehouse unwilling to break the habit she's acquired living at the Tower. She's found some peace in watching scenery whether it is deathly quiet out in the middle of nowhere, or in the centre of the busiest city in the world. She blames Bruce for that new facet. She stares at the stars plastered across the clear sky. She doesn't catalogue their position like she was trained to do, or try to figure out the constellations like she does with Cooper and Lila. Her mind registers that Bruce probably knows and would tell her if she asks when he joins her up here. She sighs softly, her breath visible in the cool night.

The rest of the team are elsewhere; Barton wanted to find a quiet corner to call Laura and the kids, Steve brought some files with him to continue his search for Barnes, Thor took off to see Jane once Bruce had transformed back, and there was no Hulk to play with. And Stark dragged Bruce to the lab to go through some preliminary checks before tomorrow.

Her head falls against the brick wall of the warehouse roof and she closes her eyes. In her mind she sees the Hulk staring back at her, that searching gaze cutting through her. She sighs again. For a split second she expected his eyes to turn deep, dark, warm brown she recognises as Bruce steady with the empathic look he's fixed her with so many times now. She felt the reaction as if it were happening to her, not him. Maybe it was.

But the Big Guy left her high and dry.

And she ignored the sympathetic glance Steve shot her as he went to keep an eye on Thor and the Hulk.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asks from the edge of the roof.

Her frown gives way to a soft expression as she answers him, her eyes remaining closed as she feels him approach. His light footwork defter than anyone gives him credit for, a clear sign of his experience on the run. Early on she realised he likes to play into the bumbling scientist persona, using like she does a cover. He would never have survived so long on his own if he was truly like that.

"I don't know, your alter ego just gave me the brush off," she rasps softly, her eyes sliding open as he hunkers down next to her on the gravelled roof. He leaves a respectable distance between them which is both too close and not close enough for the warring going on inside Natasha. "A girl can get a complex about that sort of thing."

The reddening of his cheeks makes her feel a tad better, making her think about the impromptu kiss in her bedroom nearly two weeks ago. She remembers the feel of Bruce's lips pressed against hers and how she readily met his kisses. She let herself enjoy the moment and his gentle caresses as he became bolder as he grew more comfortable with touching her. He impressed her by testing his limits, letting her lead him to her bed where he responded eagerly when she kissed him again. They didn't progress beyond kisses and chaste touches, yet it left her willing to try for more. He hasn't kissed her since leaving them with a charged tension whenever they managed a few minutes alone. She doesn't hold that against him. They've been helping Stark prepare for this weekend, time alone has been near impossible to have, spontaneous or not.

Breaking from her reverie, she hears him scoot closer and she registers a sombre look on his face. "Don't apologise for him," Natasha says. "Neither of you did anything wrong."

"Neither did you," Bruce points out. "You disappeared after."

She can hear his disappointment. Yes, she had left after he transformed, sticking around long enough to check he was okay before making some lame excuse about changing, then never re-joining the group. Her ego was bruised, and she was a little pissed. She may have been expecting to fail but it still stung. "I failed," she explains.

"I wouldn't exactly say that," Bruce counters. "He didn't try to run or kill anyone."

"We're definitely in trouble if you're the optimistic one," she quips and immediately regrets it. He's trying to console her after all. "Sorry."

"You're right," Bruce shrugs. "I do tend to fixate on the negative, but even I don't see this as a dire situation."

"You don't really believe he is capable of what we're telling you he is doing," Natasha sighs. She straightens her legs and crosses them at the ankles.

"No, I don't. I can only go on the feelings I have as I transform, or the few memories I have and the rage which accompanies them after an incident. Even now, fighting with the team, all I can feel is rage. There's no difference from his rampages."

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you're influencing him to be uncooperative to deter me." It comes out as a half grumble, only half serious. "I think your connection is better than you think it is Bruce."

"Even if I knew how, I wouldn't," Bruce promises and she believes him.

"Why not?" While she believes he has little to no recollection of his transformations – the devastation he expresses is too raw to be fake – she is curious as to why he wouldn't sway the situation if he could.

"I was hoping this would work for your sake," Bruce replies meeting her eyes. "It seems important to you."

It is. There is a lot riding on this, not in terms of fighting HYDRA, or whatever threats the universe has to offer, but because Bruce deserves some peace. He's been fighting his other half for so long, long before Stark was kidnapped, long before Steve woke up, just as she fights the influence of the Red Room. He's been torturing himself over things he can't control. Natasha wants to do this for Bruce. It's not about controlling the Hulk or him, it's about giving them something they can trust in, they can control.

"It isn't important to you?" Natasha clarifies with a frown.

"It is, but not for the same reasons," Bruce admits darkly. "I just, I don't want this to be a symbol of redemption for you," he continues hesitantly. "None of us is perfect, that's why this team was put together in the first place. I would like to think we've evolved past the point of strangers to friends and we're naturally going to help each other. Each of us have our own reasons Natasha for joining."

She swallows at his implication.

"I don't want this to be the wrong kind of restitution for you. If you are able to trigger a transformation back a couple of times, don't be surprised if he fails other times. Just don't blame yourself, Natasha. I don't want your redemption to fail because he does."

"You have no faith in him."

"I have faith in you," he earnestly whispers. He pauses as soon as the loaded words leave his mouth. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."

She can't bring herself to contradict such a simple, honest statement. Sad in a way, that he seems so content with the concept. Dangerous and unprecedented territory for them, attachments only complicate their world. It should scare him, in the past it would have. She probably shouldn't encourage it, in the past she wouldn't have. She doesn't know how to explain it only that it's nice and she likes it and she's never had that before. Like she's learnt with Bruce, he doesn't abide by the rules of her life and she thinks this connection they're forming has a chance to last.

"You mentioned me trusting you with him," Bruce's voice brings her back to him. "It goes both ways Natasha, you've got to trust me and him with you."

She doesn't say anything so he continues. "Something else was bothering you," he presumes.

She's not going to blame Stark, it's not his fault. He highlighted the problem rather than causing it. Bruce won't ask her to explain but she knows he's willing to listen if she's forthcoming.

"I watched the footage Barton recorded," Bruce explains. "I could see it, not obvious to those who don't know you, but it was there and if I can see it, then the Other Guy can too." She looks at him in silent askance. He swallows thickly. "He can feel it."

"And he walked away."

"I think you confused him, you were telling him one thing and he could sense another," Bruce defends lightly. "He got overwhelmed by it."

"How do you propose I overcome that?"

"Be honest with him," Bruce suggests. "Don't hide how you're feeling, even if that's your first instinct. It doesn't matter how good you are at pretending to be something you're not – he knows, he can feel it."

She blinks a few times at his insight, surprised he seems so at ease with the openness. She can hardly tell him she was spooked by him or at least the changes he's causing in her life. She doesn't mix personal with work – Clint and his family don't count as they were the first to bring some semblance of peace to her life. She supposes there's a few similarities with Bruce given how he's helped ease her transition from SHIELD agent to full-fledged Avenger in the last few months. Her life doesn't consist of covers to hide behind, and that's okay because the team seem to accept her for who she is.

"What are you thinking about?"

"My life," she admits. The carnage. The deaths. The screams. They go hand in hand with her covers. "I've been around the globe and I've never seen any of it except for when I was working."

"Maybe you need a vacation."

"I wouldn't know how," she humours him.

"Neither would I," he agrees. "Maybe," he hesitates and gives her a once over. "Maybe, once this is over, we could figure it out, together."

The idea of being elsewhere is more appealing to her than she thought it would ever be. Even more so if Bruce were to come with her. If anyone had told her, way back when she was first assigned to watch him, Bruce Banner would become an integral part of her life she would have laughed at them.

Instead of answering she presses her lips to his cheek, lingering there, letting her lashes flutter against his skin. She pulls back a fraction to gage his reaction. His pupils dilate and his heart beat quickens. Her own thumps in her chest. She could easily distract him by kissing him. Distract herself too. It wouldn't solve anything except testing his restraint. She settles against him, her lips curving at the slight twitch he gives when her body curls into his. Her arm wraps around his, her fingers find the pulse point at his wrist. His breath jumps, their heads so close it hits the side of her cheek. Her expression softens fondly as she turns to coyly look at him except she gets caught in his gaze. Looking at her so intently her heart beats as rapidly as his. Their foreheads meet.

Warmth spreads through Natasha as she watches his eyes drop to where her hand still rests on his wrist, edging just beneath the cuff of his shirt. The angle is different but has no diminishing effect on the sensation she feels as she strokes the pad of her thumb over his skin gently. His eyes light up, his body remembering the touch. Someone gasps, she isn't sure who, maybe both. Her tongue licks her lower lip; her mouth feels dry. She pushes on regardless as she finishes the movement she used on the Hulk hours ago, trailing her fingers over his palm, flicking off the end of his.

They almost sink into each other as their mouths meet in a gasp. Unlike the sweet and tender touches they exchanged before, this escalates almost frantically, meeting meet over and over again as Bruce's hand cups her chin and his other winds around her back to keep her in place. Not that he needs to. One of her hands threads through his hair as she deepens the kiss. She loses track of how long they are entwined but eventually he pulls back, looking sheepish, ruffled and adorable. A few green flecks in his eyes tell her all she needs to know. She inwardly rejoices when he doesn't leave her embrace completely, instead tucks her into his side as his heart continues to beat steadily.

"I like this," she confesses after a moment, her voice hitching a tad, though it'd be impossible to hear if you didn't know what you were listening for.

"Why does that sound like a bad thing?" He sounds so shocked by her revelation, as if he doesn't believe anyone could feel that way about him.

"You make me want things," she says simply, her tone telling him she won't expand on her answer.

In the past, wanting things was dangerous and she refused to let herself fall into the trap of making attachments besides Clint –he brought that on himself really, she justifies– yet since the fall of SHIELD her usual mask of indifference has been useless. It's all of their faults.

Stark for actively taking on the role of shielding them from the public and the authorities, literally and figuratively by putting a roof over their heads and an army of lawyers to deal with the government. Steve for continuing his life-long mission of tracking and saving Barnes; Thor for being so gung-ho about missions. Bruce and dorkish way of checking on her and Natasha for finding it endearing and falling for it.

For first time in her life, fighting for something isn't enough, because if you fight for it you're willing to die for it, she needs something to live for. And for the first time she thinks she may have a chance at a life worth living for.

* * *

"How are you doing with all of this?" Tony asks as he approaches Bruce a day later in the rudimentary workshop –well at least compared to the lab at the Tower, most other businesses would be envious of the equipment in the 'workshop'.

"I'm okay, I'm just…it's not exactly reassuring," Bruce says as he shuts down the window displaying the data feedback from Veronica after she was deployed hours ago.

"Yeah, he knocked Red for six," Bruce's head snaps up in panic. He'd seen them all after he woke up, no one appeared to have any injuries, least of all Natasha. "I'm messing with you and it was a badly timed joke." Bruce shakes his head at Tony and turns back to his bag.

"At least I know where the line is," Tony continues, trying to appease Bruce. "Look it's going to take a while, we're in unchartered territory. Except the Big Guy is responding to her and that's a good sign."

Bruce looks away, not really ready to comprehend that piece of information.

"So how long have you been playing tonsil hockey with Romanoff?"

"What? No, no," Bruce replies, his head whipping around, eyes wide and panicked. "We're not like that…we're friends…we don't…Why would you think that?" he stumbles over his words, worried he'd done something to give them away, a lingering look, a smile, his heart beating too loud.

"Easy there buddy, it's nothing you did, which is what surprised me. Red kinda gave herself away, not what I expected from her," Tony explains with some disbelief. "She got a little protective before testing whatever that was out there yesterday."

"That doesn't mean anything Tony," Bruce tries to persuade him but knows it's useless now something has caught Tony's attention.

"Really? So, you two weren't making out on the roof last night?"

"What?!" Bruce feels the heat spread across his skin. Damn it. "You have cameras," he deduces a second later.

"Of course I have cameras," Tony crows with a smirk. "Apparently, bumbling scientist is Red's kink. Although you do have some smooth moves."

"Please tell me you don't have audio," Bruce begs.

Tony gives him a reproachful look. _Of course, he has audio._

"I'm thinking of our privacy Tony."

"How much privacy do we have with each other? I've already seen your bare ass this weekend," Tony retorts.

Bruce's face burns. Once they left the roof, he walked her to her room. Her mind had been on other things. She let him stay though he didn't want to take advantage of her while distracted, he couldn't leave her like that. They lay on her bed, barely touching, and she started asking him questions, some playful, some serious. He answered them all and asked a few of his own, expressing his unveiled delight when she answered them. He fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, waking a few hours later to find her curled into his body, her head on his shoulder.

"She's got a history, but so do the rest of us and that's not a bad thing," Tony turns serious. Bruce blinks away his daydream. "Actually, and don't repeat this to Red, I think she's good for you."

"Then why do you give her such a hard time?" Bruce asks.

"Because it's our thing," Tony points out. "And in my defence, she gives as good as she gets."

"You don't have to keep testing her, I think she's proved herself by now Tony."

"Yeah, she has," his best friend agrees readily, then grimaces regretfully. "But I may have implied something different before the test."

"You screwed with her before she approached him," Bruce realises and Tony looks a little contrite at that. Bruce feels a surge of frustration toward the billionaire, true annoyance he's never felt before. "That's not fair on her Tony."

When he watched the tape back, the memories came flooding back. Unusual even for him, he never had such a visceral reaction to a recording of the Other Guy. They weren't just flashes like he's used to. He remembered the experience, heightening after Natasha appeared on screen. He felt the sensations the Hulk was enduring. Touch, sound. He could feel her hand on his arm, the sensory overload as she spoke to him. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears. He doesn't know what she said, the camera didn't pick up the audio but the intensity in her eyes stuck out in his memory. He felt her fear. He felt himself being pulled back and was expecting to see himself reappear on camera. And after how he reacted to her last night, he is starting to believe it's possible.

"I know, and I'll submit myself for the relevant tongue lashing and being her personal punching bag later. Except for the fact whatever she's trying to achieve is flawed, she's not going to be her infallible self when she performs it." Bruce starts to argue that's not the point but Tony cuts him off. "Think about it, she's going to be coming down from a fight herself. The adrenaline's pumping, she's still twitchy and itching to reach for a weapon, he takes that the wrong way and she's going to go Black Widow on him."

Bruce thinks about it for a long minute, before shaking his head. Tony has a valid point, but it doesn't make what he did was right. She's been as sincere as Tony has to help him. Whatever her reasons, her campaigning never wavered. "Both of you are trying to help me. She's not messing with Veronica," Bruce sighs giving Tony something to relate to. "Show her the same respect or I'll let her hack it and make you do the chicken dance."

Tony bobs his head to the side, the thought holding his attention for several seconds. "Hmm, we could get a whole set of cabaret back up dancers with the Iron Legion."

"You always make things weird," Bruce shakes his head at the image his friend created in his head. "Tony," he prompts noting how Tony overlooked agreeing with Bruce's request.

"Alright, alright, no messing with Red's lullaby," Tony finally ascents. A second later he holds up a finger to make a point. "But how would you feel if she copped a feel of the Big Guy?"

"She wouldn't do that," Bruce replies, baffled and amused by the idea. He mimics Tony's finger, still held mid-air. " _You_ are the only one who _would_ do that."

Tony chuckles at his side. "I really would if I ever got the chance, but she got there first." Pause. "Or at least that's what it looked like."

It had been odd to watch her touch the Hulk. How she manages to look at them as if they were the same yet differentiate between their personalities will likely elude him for a long time to come. However, he did note the gentleness with which the Hulk approached her. His protectiveness was a little worrisome and has the possibility to end in untold carnage if it happened in the field, yet it's a minor point and Bruce puts it down to his own need to find a flaw. He can't qualify it in words and he by no means trusts his other half on the basis of one trial but he definitely saw a side of the Hulk he hasn't seen before. One which trusts, one with more potential beyond rage and pain. One inspired by Natasha.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author Note – sorry it's been a while since I updated this story. This chapter is short compared to previous ones because of the long delay. Any feedback is much appreciated, thank you all for still reading.**

 **Special thanks goes to my fabulous beta Black' Victor Cachat.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter eleven

Natasha stands atop of the apartment building they just raided.

Well, apartment building is a loose term; she means the living quarters on the military base that had been overrun by HYDRA agents. The _residents_ , were families of the five scientists HYDRA abducted to adapt some of the technology left behind by the Chitauri. They were being used as an incentive; wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, _children._

Natasha's blood starts pumping at the mere thought of it. She glances down at the former captives, scattered in the bases' yard, receiving treatment from the Relief Foundation's medical team for whatever injuries they sustained either during their rescue or their captivity. Considering the scale of the fight, they were lucky they didn't lose any of the hostages in the fighting, as the HYDRA agents refused to surrender.

The rubble has been cleared away, and the burning cars have been extinguished. It was a war zone, easily one of the worst sites they've seen. Stark's recently devised Relief Foundation arrived shortly after the military collected the restrained HYDRA agents to start tending the wounded. Natasha retreated to the roofs to oversee the scene while most of her team retreated to the Quinjet on the ground.

"The Tower is going to get jealous if you keep cheating on its' roof," Stark says from behind her. He stops beside her, taking in the seen. She can sense his stoic front, his barrier between him and suffering. "You alright?"

"Just keeping watch," Natasha replies, her eyes still on Bruce as he runs a hand through his dusty hair.

"Isn't that Barton's job?"

Natasha shrugs. Clint is usually good at keeping out of the line of fire from wherever he decides to perch himself, except this time one of the HYDRA agents decided to try and sneak up on him and the Hulk noticed. In a quick motion the Big Guy leaped above Clint to swat the man into the side of one of the chimneys with such force a large cluster of the ricocheting rubble hit Clint on the side of the head. He's currently nursing his concussion in the back of the Quinjet.

She appraises Stark quickly without answering him. "He's in his element," she replies with a nod at their mutual friend standing in the midst of the casualties, deflecting without an ounce of subtlety. Bruce kneels in front of a woman and her young son, bandaging the bloody wound on the kids' arm. Natasha supresses a smile at the sight of him dressed in a new T-shirt and sweats smiling at the story the kid is telling him. Despite being bewildered after transforming a short time ago he's still working to help the people they rescued.

"Sometimes I think he's more connected to them than any of us," Stark muses.

Stark's right. Not that she'd tell him, she simply resents the thought of giving him the satisfaction. His ego is huge as it is without validation from her. Not that he hasn't had his fair share of humbling experiences, usually life-threatening, like his kidnapping. People to overlook these situations because of his animated personality which he uses to deflect people from realising the impact these events have had on him, herself included she notes.

Bruce is different. He sees and acknowledges the good Tony does, has done for him and others. Though Stark usually prefers to fund groups like the Relief Foundation, his vast wealth giving him some distance from being directly involved, Bruce likes to be hands on with the suffering. Natasha suspects he was Starks' inspiration for the medical and ground support. Natasha once overheard them discussing the Iron Legion and how they could pick up the slack, but Bruce steadfastly countered that while a robot is capable of many things, it will never be able to provide the same nurturing another human can, people aren't ready for it especially in situations where they are likely to be in shock.

"He always has been," Natasha replies. Out of all of them Bruce is probably the most humane. He has a better understanding of what it means to be a normal person and an Avenger, as he's both. If Clint weren't so paranoid, she'd describe him the same way. Bruce is less enamoured by his role as an Avenger as he isn't aware of the experience like the rest of them. He'll never get used to the way the Hulk operates, yet after years of self-imposed isolation he's often struck by the need to reconnect with humanity despite his fear of hurting others. Just like he was doing in Calcutta when she found him, inspiring her to bait him with a little girl asking for him to help her family. "He needs this side of the job more than us."

"Yeah, it's hard to watch and accept, so we let others deal with the aftermath."

For the rest of them, the aftermath is particularly difficult. The public is scrutinising them closely with their missions becoming both more frequent, and a tendency to become increasing more volatile, causing more damage to public property than they intended. They can handle the people who criticise, they can justify the means if need be in a debrief or a public or news conference so their reasoning reaches the public unfettered by the government.

Praise is harder to accept. None of them signed up to become celebrities; Stark already was one and Thor was already stuff of legend and therefore know how to deal with such scrutiny. Steve views this as a duty which everyone should partake in, and no one should receive praise for doing the right thing. Natasha doesn't feel like she deserves it, her ledger is still bursting at the seams. Bruce would never take it. Clint prefers anonymity, first and foremost to protect his family, secondly, it's difficult to do a covert mission if your face is splashed across the front pages of the tabloids. Praise is a difficult concept for them, as they each have their own individual motivations, so they shelter themselves from this attention.

"Their fight doesn't end when ours does Stark," Natasha reminds him.

Once the team flies away on the Quinjet, the civilians have so much more to deal with. Hospital stays, rebuilding themselves and their homes, finding new ones in some cases. That doesn't include the psychological damage which has been done. Bruce understands that better than any of them, which means that no matter what trauma he experiences during his transformation, he's not going to stand idly by as people are hurt and need help.

"This is why this is so important to him; he's only ever known the aftermath with the Hulk. It's what he embraces." Stark insists. "Only problem is adults are too gung-ho when it comes to the Big Guy to let Banner help them. Kids don't have that problem."

"Kids are more honest, they see the good in people when people can't see it in themselves," Natasha says thinking of her niece and nephew who are the only two can truly make her feel better about herself.

"First channelling the Hulk, now you're a regular Mary Poppins," Stark states. "Much experience with kids, Red?" The sharp reminder of the family which was taken from her is quashed by a flash in her mind of her niece and nephew and the sonogram of the soon to be newest member of the Barton clan. She still glares at him for good measure. "Sorry," he apologises as he realises there's more pain behind the glare than he knows, and he manages to demonstrate some sensibility by not asking her about it. "I also owe you an apology for what I said at the warehouse."

"You don't owe me anything Stark, no matter what you said, you did it for the right reasons. You were looking out for him, and I can appreciate that. We're good," she adds amiably.

"What's it like for you? The Lullaby?" Stark asks. Natasha raises her eyebrows at him. So, he does what he does best and keeps talking. "Well, we know what effect your Lullaby has on him, pretty damn physically obvious, but I am wondering how it affects you."

Her mind is still reeling from the latest successful Lullaby, having taken place less than an hour ago. The experience itself feels like an echo, and she's the cause of the ripples. All of her senses are heightened; his breathing is so acute in her ear, keenly listening for any changes to his grunts; her fingers tingle as they slide over his smoothly skin; her eyes bore into his, waiting for the flecks of brown to reappear; the coiling tension in the pit of her stomach as she watches his body convulse, his skin lightening to a fleshy hue. The heady sensation doesn't leave her for a while after, during which time she prefers to be close to Bruce.

"Why do you want to know?" She's not going to share the experience with Stark.

"You're up here watching him while he's down there tending to the people we just rescued," Stark answers. "I never would have imagined you and he would—"

"What?" Natasha cuts in defensively.

Stark has the audacity to laugh. "As far as I figure, you have one helluva crush on the big guy and his green alter ego, but I can't seem to figure out why. I first thought you and Barton were a thing, except, I don't know, something was amiss. Then I thought Cap – maybe – but he's wound too tight for you." He's speaking out loud and she's mildly offended that he's scrutinised her relationships so closely. Then again, given his suspicious tendencies and how they first met when she was assigned to him by Fury, she would be worried if he _didn't_ try to figure out her intricate interactions. "Guess my Science Bro has more game than any of us give him credit for."

Natasha offers a half a smile at that, mellowing with a sigh, grateful the conversation has circled back to Bruce. "That, he does," she confirms. "You don't have to worry, it's nothing to do with the Lullaby."

"Let me be the judge of that," Stark replies. "Come on, who else is going to listen to girl talk?"

"You think I'm a girl who talks?" Natasha teases. Clearly the man has forgotten the Red Room's extensive interrogation training.

"I don't know, I keep having this recurring vision of you and Hill at the SHIELD gym, side-by-side on the treadmills in skimpy—"

"Finish that thought and I'm snitching to Pepper," she warns.

"Duly noted," Stark agrees. "All I'm saying, is it's good to share, or so I've been told, and out those closest to you geographically there is a restricted number of people you can talk to about this. Barton, now forgive me for insulting your best friend, doesn't have clue—"

"His experience with dating is fairly limited," Natasha adds, thinking of her best friends' wife. Clint is insightful when it comes to seeing the good in people and their true intentions when they can't see it in themselves. He doesn't look for their interest in others unless it is furtive; genuine regard and affection seem to dip below his radar.

"I knew all that James Bond, clandestine, spy appeal is a crock," the billionaire mutters shaking his head. "I'm getting side tracked. Capsicle will probably give you a lecture on fraternizing."

Natasha thinks not considering the regrets Steve carries regarding Peggy Carter, which he continues to tortures himself with by visiting the SHIELD's ailing founding agent.

"What about Thor? He seems like a romantic," the former assassin offers instead.

"Pft, can you image how that conversation would go?" Stark scoffs. He deepens his voice and lays the accent on thickly, "On Asgard, prima nocta—"

"It started with dinner," she says before he can insult their ally and friend who could by some chance hear him. "Like most people."

"We're not most people."

"No," Natasha sighs half-heartedly. "But it was a nice start." Starks stares at her, obviously expecting more than a cryptic assessment to appease him. "He kept apologising for what happened on the Helicarrier, and I suggested he take me to dinner."

"You're our resident femme fatal, he's our geek with a dark sense of humour and a rage problem; that's not the usual narrative. You're not playing by the rules of girl talk Romanoff!" He insists.

"Why does it feel like you're trying to turn me into Rhodey?" Natasha replies under her breath.

"That's nothing to sniff at Red," Tony warns jokingly, wagging his finger at her. "Come on, details?" He tries again.

"Coulson sent me to bring in a supposedly skittish scientist who had a handle on his epic anger issues, and the guy ended up turning the tables on me," she shrugs. "I was intrigued."

"I gather it was rather effective if it got you of all people to ask him on a date," Stark snickers.

"He has more skills to offer than just smashing."

"Obviously some carnal ones you are eagerly testing," Stark concurs. "And you're commandeering a lot of Stark roof accesses to do so."

Natasha actually smirks, she's not going to correct him. She and Bruce haven't done anything besides kiss. That doesn't mean that one day they won't progress beyond that. Natasha is letting him set the pace of the physical side, despite his new found control he's still weary of transforming during intimate moments. She knows he will never hurt her even if he doesn't. With help and patience, his confidence in his control will grow.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do after we find the sceptre?" Natasha looks at him curiously. "That is the objective of what we're doing here. I mean this in the best possible way but Fury's not around to pull your strings anymore."

She quirks an eyebrow at that, wondering what her former boss would make of her indecision if he ever got a whiff of it. Would Fury even care enough to resurface to haunt their lives again? If he said 'jump' would she say 'how high?'. Her rose tinted view of Fury was shattered when he kept her out of his circle after his 'death'. She'll be forever grateful that he believes in her when others don't, but she won't follow him blindly again even if she wants to seek his guidance over the changes she is contemplating. No doubt his advice would me enigmatic and cryptic and force her to make her own decisions.

"Are you willing to settle for a civilian life? A regular nine till five?"

"That's a little deep for a conversation between me and you Stark," Natasha replies tightly. "I don't want to set a precedent for the future."

"I think that's the nicest way you could tell me to mind my own business without death threats; we're mellowing Red – we should celebrate," he deadpans. Her eyes roll out of habit, now a conditioned response to most of his jokes. Her hand twitches too, but she's long since been able to hone her urge to render him unconscious for years. "Don't dismiss it just yet Red, I have some good grey goose in the freezer behind the bar back at the Tower, we'll have a party."

"Remember the last time we partied together?" she stares at him.

"I remember a leopard print dress," he reminisces then notices her cocked eyebrow and balks, "So, no party." A beat. "I just," he grimaces and looks at Bruce. "Mostly I wonder where he factors into your plans, if you have any for when we're done with HYDRA and Loki's sceptre."

"I don't think about the future," Natasha admits. Her passing thoughts aside, Bruce mentioned a vacation, and that is fine. That's less definite than the plans Stark is asking her about. And her future has never been definite.

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't have time to," Stark ponders it for a second. "Maybe you should, we've all spent far too much time dwelling on the past and our present adventure is rapidly drawing to a close."

"We haven't talked about what's happening between us, and I don't know where I factor into his future," she muses, knowing that's why neither of them has labelled their relationship or publicly acknowledged it beyond their private conversations with Stark. Labels mean expectations and rules which neither of them is able to commit to.

"Avoiding that conversation probably makes you more normal than you realise. And while I suspect both of you are willing to continue canoodling in oblivious bliss, you've got to admit whatever this is between you is important enough for you both to act upon."

There was a time when Natasha would've ignored her attraction to Bruce, avoided it at all costs. Her life back then didn't allow for anything except the job. She's never experienced anything quite like her relationship with Bruce. Defining it is difficult for her; she's fine with the physical intimacy, Bruce is a skilled kisser who is attentive yet sets a leisurely pace to the few times they've indulged in more than a single kiss. Her body enjoys the feel of him pressed against her.

It's the emotional cost that worries her. The foundation of their friendship is rooted in the raw honesty they fostered during their early conversations after she first moved into the Tower. When she felt lost and craved the trust of those around her to the point where she revealed more than she normally would and they quickly evolved past confidants into something more. Any other person would say her grief caused her to open up to someone, and part of her would agree but it didn't have to be Bruce. It could've easily been Steve who was with her when she discovered Fury's deception, when she was still in shock from losing her mentor.

It wasn't though, it was Bruce, the dorky scientist. Someone who knows what it's like to have something dark and dangerous inside, always trying to find a way to claw out.

His words, not hers.

As far as she's concerned, deep down, the Big Guy is all fluff.

The connection she feels with Bruce and the Hulk is strengthening each time she performs the lullaby, as they've taken to calling it. Bruce is attracted to her; the signs were there before they went to dinner and their first kiss but she doesn't know if he feels the connection like she does or if it's the Hulk who feels the effect of the lullaby. She would rather wait till the time was right for them to discuss it, at least until after they find the sceptre.

Their fight against HYDRA and clearing up the residual Chitauri weapons and technology has been a steady battle, the information flowing through Hill and her sources she refuses to reveal to the Avengers is more reliable than their first mission after the fall of SHIELD. As much as she feels the loss of SHIELD's daily presence in her life, she likes the Avengers' dynamic as it is now. It's made the transition easier.

Natasha sees the shift, HYDRA is fighting back but their agents are getting desperate. She's not going to proclaim a definitive end to the struggle yet, though there will hopefully come a day where it can be managed by the military without the Avengers oversight. She's not going to refuse the call if something else arises in the future, that's not who she is.

"Have no fear Romanoff, I'm not going to meddle – too much. And if I do my reasons for doing so are purely selfish."

"You want him to stay close," Natasha says knowingly, rolling her eyes. Bruce cares about Stark and vice versa.

"Damn right I do, who else can say Bruce Banner is their lab partner?"

"Helen Cho?" Natasha provides helpfully to which he grasps his chest with an intake of breath in indignation.

"He's cheating on me?" Natasha bites her lip. He drops the act with a grimace. "Look, I'm just spit balling here. Feel free to shoot me down, not literally mind," Stark adds, holding up a finger to admonish her when that piques her interest. "I started the Relief Foundation to help with the clean-up, organise medical treatment, oversee rebuilds if necessary, make sure people are housed in the meantime. They've managed to navigate around us when we haven't been able to avoid collateral damage."

"Sometimes it's par for the course."

"Especially when HYDRA is already holding said civilians to ransom," Stark concurs. "I was thinking of expanding the relief foundations' objective to natural disasters, getting aid to anyone who needs it."

"Sounds like a solid idea," Natasha agrees already getting a sense of where Stark is going with this. It's not a massive intuitive leap with the questions he's been asking.

"Well I've been thinking about the logistics," Iron Man says in a voice which Natasha has learnt to be wary of. "Wait – did you just say I was right?"

"Did I use those exact words? No," she replies sharply with flash of her eyes, urging him to get on with it.

"Anyway, there's a lot to consider, I need someone to lead it – someone organised, tenacious, experience with hostile situations – I want their safety assured if they have to be deployed in an area where the local warlord has a monopoly on the protection racket as we'll be on their turf and making a dent in their main income-, and knowledge of Stark Industries. I had this great assistant once who would be perfect, named Natalie…"

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Where does Bruce fit into that plan if you want him in lab?"

"This isn't about what I want, this is about him, and while he'll always be welcome at any of the research facilities, Bruce wants to help people because he believes he has to even the score somehow. Take your time, I don't need an answer right away."

"I appreciate the offer Stark, but why-," she starts except he interrupts.

"You're good for him," he explains to her unspoken question.

Natasha stares down at the topic of their conversation only to find him looking back at her with nothing except dubious concern. Considering her last real conversation with Stark, she can't really blame Bruce. She offers him a hint of a lip quirk which must allay his concern because his expression softens a little before he squints at them in either suspicion or confusion. The quirk widens and she's rewarded with a blush; she can still affect him at this distance.

"Why do I feel like you two are conspiring against me?" He calls up to them as he moves to the front of the building.

"It's a fair assumption," Stark replies. Natasha remains impassive to the exchange.

"Fair enough," Bruce returns with a carefree shrug. He squints a little at the angle he has to crane his neck. "We're not taking off yet, are we?" He gestures to the remaining injured who still require on site treatment; those with severe injuries had already been airlifted to the nearest US base for treatment they can't provide in the field. There is so many waiting to be seen or relocated, Natasha realises.

"Take the time you need Buddy," Stark tells him. "We're not going anywhere without you."

Bruce nods and looks between them once again but seems to dismiss his suspicions over their proximity and their conversation. With one last glance at Natasha – conveying concern, support and consolation in one lingering look– he walks backwards off the curb before turning on his heel and returning to the wounded.

Once Bruce is out of ear shot, Stark continues from where they left off before they were interrupted. "I'm not going to push you to make a commitment because that's going to send both of you running for the hills, just think about the offer."

"I can't make that decision for him," she says allowing her doubts to show.

"It's always going to be hard for him to let himself be happy. He's never going to take the initiative to make that decision, you've got to guide him. It's scary to make the first move, believe me," he breathes out disbelievingly. "But when you do, you get to reap the rewards of that move, like inner peace or something – I'm not sure if that's the best description but it's not like anything I've ever felt," Stark adds. "Look, you two could dance around each other but neither of you take this kind of relationship lightly. Both of you have the kind of history where someone will emerge and you're going to have to decide whether you run away from it or run with it."

It's a novel idea, very thoughtful and kind but not as simple as Stark is describing. It could work and there is no doubt that Bruce would enjoy the chance to help people. She would find it fulfilling in terms of wiping out her ledger. The only doubts she has are the ones concerning their relationship. She doesn't know if it's too soon to make such a commitment, doesn't know how to determine that either. Thinking about Starks' advice she knows she'll never run away from him.

While she can't make this life altering kind of decision for Bruce, she can ask if he wants to run with it. With her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author Note – Thank you to those who left comments or favourited and followed, I'm so glad people are enjoying this foray – especially to the guests, I would love to reply to you personally because you're very sweet. I welcome any kind of feedback. For the sake of posting a little quicker than normal, I have decided to split the last few chapters into smaller ones than originally intended. Please enjoy.**

 **As always, a massive thanks to my beta Black' Victor Cachat, who writes some wonderful stories so please read them if you ever get the chance.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter twelve

Inside his lab, Bruce sighs peacefully as his head lulls against the back of his chair. His eyes flutter sleepily, his computer in front of him on the desk blurs slightly as his vision fights against succumbing to slumber.

It's tempting, really is. Except for the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, similar to the rumble the Other Guy makes as he's about to make an appearance. If he didn't know any better, he would say the Hulk was trying to tell him something. He does know better, however, and knows he's just getting antsy. They are months into their search for the Sceptre, and their raids on HYDRA are taking their toll; not just on HYDRA, but the Avengers too.

Not all of it's negative; they've jelled as a team and are effectively coordinating with each other in the field. And yes, that includes the Hulk, which is still as much of a surprise to Bruce now as when he was first told by Natasha and Tony months ago. They've been on dozens of missions, each one more successful than the last. The Hulk isn't always needed, sometimes they need a subtler approach, yet Bruce is always on standby just in case. Except he's never truly prepared for any of the Code Greens when the team deem them necessary.

Neither he nor the Other Guy can talk to each other, they'll never be able to communicate face to face to hash out their issues or find a way to resolve them. Despite quick flashes of images of wrecking vehicles or tearing his way through a building, Bruce isn't cognizant when the Hulk is in charge of their body, although occasionally he hears a warning rumble in the back of his head, the growl which is like a knife to the stomach. Bruce suspects they will never come a time they are able to accept the others' presence in their life.

Heels click on the tile floor yet and he turns to see Natasha approaching him, dressed in casual shirt and slacks with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. "You're always tinkering in here," she greets.

"Hi," he says brightening. Though his sleepiness is evident in his voice, it's dissipating quickly with her presence.

"Hi," she mimics, moving into his personal space to perch on the desk directly in front of him. "What are you doing in here so late?"

It's not late, not by their standards. Verging on ten in the evening, it's been a long day of working with Tony on simulations for Veronica, trying to refine the targeting system for the cage to Bruce's exacting standards—most of which fall short when it comes to the Hulk. Tony himself had retired upstairs a few hours ago when Pepper arrived. Bruce then realises Natasha has been notably absent, he'd seen her earlier for breakfast when she mentioned venturing out for the day but she didn't offer any information about where or how long it would take. He didn't ask, not sure if he has the right to enquire even out of curiosity, instead of out of the relationship limbo they seem to have fallen into. He tries not to eye her outfit for too long, trying to figure out if there are any tell-tale signs on her black slacks and shirt, unbuttoned to see the lining of a dark green tank top underneath. Not her usual first choice of an ensemble, he quickly realised she has a penchant for jeans and hoodies.

"I'm running scans, see if I can locate the Sceptre using the readings I took when we first had it on the helicarrier," Bruce answers to distract him from frowning at his own thoughts. He'd run the same scans several times since it first went missing, all of his searches reaping nothing of value.

"I thought you already tried that," Natasha points out.

"Yeah, I run them sporadically in case HYDRA have it in transit, and we're able to pick up the energy signatures. If not the Sceptre itself, hopefully some of the weapons they're building with it will emanate similar signatures."

Bruce knows it's a long shot, HYDRA probably have it shielded somewhere to avoid detection. But he has to _try_ in case, by some chance, they dropped their guard. Of course, keeping it on the move would throw in a lot more variables which he can't account for in the scans.

"But you're half asleep, you could set yourself an alert for the results," she reminds him. She's quiet for a second, assessing his demeanour quickly. "What are you thinking about?"

"This war with HYDRA is going on too long," he sighs. He wants the suffering to end and retreat back to what he knows best – the lab. He wants to explore the opportunities of being a contributing member of society again now he doesn't have to hide away. "I am trying to speed it up."

"A valiant effort Bruce, but there's no guarantee the war with HYDRA will end when we find the Sceptre. It might just slow them down rather than destroy them."

He sighs at that. Not what he wanted to hear, even if it is painfully honest. Natasha seems less enamoured with the realisation than he is. Her shoe rests on the corner of his moveable desk chair, keeping him from wheeling away from her.

"It feels like we're always preparing for a fight," Bruce sighs, kind of relieved she presses him when wants nothing more than to keep his thoughts to himself. Sometimes he wonders whether they would've gotten to know each other if SHIELD was an active part of their lives and she was on constant missions. "Are we actually changing anything for the better?"

"It's frustrating," Natasha agrees. "And sometimes, it feels like we're not progressing or we're setting ourselves up for a fall. People are going to start questioning why this is taking so long, or why we're not yielding results."

"Shouldn't we question that ourselves? HYDRA still holds the Sceptre over our heads, they're still active and threatening a lot of people's lives. What have we achieved? Where do we draw the line once we've achieved it?"

"Ideally, ending HYDRA is our goal. It's easy to overlook our small victories because we haven't fulfilled that. Sometimes you've got to think about every life which would have been lost if we hadn't shown up. We've taken down cells which had enough firepower and resources to conquer a small country Bruce. That little boy you patched up last week, and his mother, we saved them. Without us they could still be HYDRA's prisoners or worse."

Bruce scratches his head, screwing up his face at the thought. There has been limited success, rewarding yet less satisfying than meeting their main objective. Bruce has no idea why tonight of all nights this has gotten to him except that it's playing on his mind.

"You need to take a break," Natasha tells him, and he knows he's been quiet for too long. Her concerns are clear and valid; she doesn't want him to withdraw completely which will inevitably cause him to question his direct involvement in the Avengers.

"The scans…" Bruce starts only for her to shush him.

"How long have they got left?"

He checks his watch. "Thirty minutes or so," he tells her, finding himself smiling at the lopsided smirk playing on her lips. Resistance is futile, he decides and allows himself to surrender to whatever she has planned for him. He's almost certain he'll enjoy her distraction. Almost. "What did you have in mind?"

"Where's the fun in telling you when I can show you?" She huskily teases.

"Fine, fine, I put myself in your hands," he tells her, then blushes as he realises how that sounds. "I mean I'm…" and she giggles at him. Giggle is a stretch, he realises a micro-second later. It could be his imagination, and the sound is nothing more than melodic huff, yet he still completely falls apart from the look which accompanies what he classes as a giggle from her. She is watching him, eyes dark, pulse fluttering, and her teeth scraping lightly over her bottom lip. He is lost. "I'm your willing distract-ee."

Natasha feels the shift too, he knows, her soft, sharp intake of breath more arousing than any seductive words. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to regain some equilibrium against all the sensations drugging him, pulling him into this dream-like reality that he never wants to end. When he opens them again, she is watching him, eyes dark, pulse fluttering and her teeth scraping lightly over her bottom lip. He is lost.

"Jarvis, kill the lights," she says, eyeing him like a predator going after her prey.

Immediately, the lights in the lab dim, wrapping them in a cocoon of semi-darkness. Only the screens provide some illumination for him to see her smirk turn seductive. The flickering indicators on the machinery provide a fairy light-like effect, softening the back drop of the cold, sterile lab. He can feel the shift in the air, his body bracing itself for whatever she has planned. Natasha's body shuffles toward the edge of the worktop and he feels the tingle of anticipation in his heart as he realises this is a pivotal point. A sense of foreboding overcomes him with the knowledge this could be the moment when they succumb to what has been hovering between them since their first kiss, his breath hitching in his throat as instead of giving into the fear of what that could mean and moving out of her reach, he waits for her. If anyone can help him overcome this particular facet of his transformations, it's Natasha.

Somehow the heel of her boot slides his chair toward her as she smoothly slides from the desk to straddle his lap in one fluid movement. He's caught between figuring out how she can make something so complicated look so simple with an air of grace and focusing on meeting her halfway. Somehow, he does, rolling the chair forward when she relinquishes control so her back is resting on the edge of his desk. She quirks an eyebrow, her lips curling into her trademark flirtatious teasing smirk at the manoeuvre and the contact yet she pays the worktop no further heed as one hand braces his shoulder as the other slides into his hair, daring and compelling him to back up his bold move.

Natasha's head tilts to the side as she studies his face. He's aware of what she is seeing, because he's allowing it to show: Desire. Need. Want. The intent to complete something they've both wanted for months, something they're both afraid to admit.

He knows the very instant she understands. Her eyes dilate suddenly and her breathing changes, all in the half second before she lifts her hand and places it on his chest. His earlier despondency is nothing compared to what he's feeling now. And knowing that she understands that on such an elemental level leaves him a little winded.

Purging on, their noses bump playfully as they each release a breathy chuckle before her lips plant themselves on his pliant ones, their pause with the touch is fleeting before they deepen the kiss. His hands move to her lower back, pulling her fully on to his lap as he eagerly engages her. He sucks lightly on her lower lip making her gasp softly. He takes advantage of her mouth opening to deepen the kiss.

Her next soft moan is captured by his mouth. His hands at her waist travel independently of the other, one settling on the curve of her hip while the other climbs to the middle of her shoulders to hold her to him as they tilt their heads, their mouths meeting frantically over and over, unable to quench their increasing desire.

His heart pounds in his chest but he's desperate to hold onto his control; he doesn't want to stop. He's growing drunk on her kisses; graceful, passionate, powerful. His chest heaves erratically, the thumping on his ribs feel like the Other Guy is literally trying to punch his way out. Unwilling to surrender the moment or Natasha to the Hulk, Bruce rips his mouth away from hers, gasping for breath to rein in his problematic pulse. He exhales into her jaw as his lips purse against her fair skin briefly as he struggles to regain control.

Natasha's thumb caresses the edge of his brow to soothe him. He catches his breath, acutely aware of her decelerating pants in his ear. Her hair brushes the side of his cheek as she remains close in his embrace. He feels her smile as she lets another content little sigh, one which makes his heart constrict with guilty pleasure. Eliciting such a response from her is beyond anything Bruce expected.

"Well, that was uh," she huffs into his ear and he chuckles throatily, not quite trusting his mouth to form words at the moment – it's still recovering. If her word stumble is anything to go by, she just as affected. "Interesting."

Despite his heart and fear of escalating past the point of no return, Bruce doesn't want to break the moment or the intimacy. Craning his head, his lips find her pulse point, sucking lightly before trailing kisses up and down the column of her neck.

"Impressive," she rasps with an air of approval as she arcs her head to give him better access.

Bruce follows her movements. His aim is draw out this moment for as long as he can, for as long as she lets it, and testing his stamina to resist the Hulk. He's not the only one unaffected. He feels the hard thrumming of her pulse; the soft hum of moan reverberating in her throat as he plants his lips on her neck.

"Pushing my limits," he mutters as his lips nip her collar bone peeking out from the opening of her shirt. He lavishes the spot with attention as she murmurs either her appreciation or her approval of either his words or actions, either way he knows she supports his endeavour as her supple body follow his movements. Despite her enthusiasm, his confidence and manners provoke him to utter, "That okay?"

There's a quick, certain nod of her head against his own instead of a verbal answer as her hand on his shoulder slips to the middle of his chest, above his heart. Her fingers idly tease the buttons for mere milliseconds before they slide between the fabric and his skin. He breathes in sharply, his eyes closing to regain some composure. Her fingers pause as he acclimatises to the sensation, allowing her to remove another barrier between them. His eyes open on his next exhale, his breathing evening out with his heartbeat. Her eyes shine down at him, waiting for him to make the next move.

His hands skim her back lightly before settling on her hips. Sensing the change in his demeanour, Natasha takes the initiative and leans down to brush his lips chastely. This time their pace is a languid, slow and sweet exploration. Feeling emboldened by the steady progression, Bruce's fingers dip under the hem of her shirt to push his limits further.

The doors open with a swoosh, a burst of cold air interrupting their private bubble. Their bodies pause when the neon lights flicker on, exposing them to their intruder. Instead of springing apart, they share a quick glance before lifting their heads to find Tony paused mid-step in the middle of the lab hastily slapping a hand over his face, "If that's not going to teach me to knock, nothing will." Two fingers part and one eye peeks through the gap. "Is it safe to look?"

Natasha says something, which Bruce assumes from her expression is some sort of Russian swear word under her breath.

"A little warning would've been nice, JARVIS," Bruce says rolling away from the desk slightly so Natasha can extract herself from his embrace. He immediately misses her body heat as she perches herself once more on the desk.

"I tried Doctor Banner, but Mister Stark refused to acknowledge my vague warnings," the AI responds.

"Emphasis on the vague, JARVIS," Tony pipes up, dropping his hand.

"If I had been explicit, you would have still been aware of the amorous activity which Doctor Banner and Miss Romanoff were engaging in, Sir. I predicted you would be more inclined to interrupt to express your humour at finding them in such a situation."

Bruce lifts his head to share a look with Natasha, who appears to be weighing up the AI's reasoning, before she accepts it with slight nod.

"Yeah, except I wouldn't be resisting the urge to burn out my retinas with a soldering iron." He then turns to the couple in question. "This is what supply closets are for people, conduct yourselves accordingly in the future."

"Thought you'd be proud, Stark," Natasha teases the billionaire.

"Oh, I am, I'd be prouder if it were a nooner," Tony replies, brightening at her engagement of his act. "Not exactly risky outside of usual business hours."

The former assassin rolls her eyes at him. "And now you'll never know if we would've still been in here when you arrived in the morning."

Bruce feels himself burning up at her implication, the mere thought of spending any kind of extended time which involves Natasha and kissing is almost too much for him. Part of him wants his friend to disappear to see if they can rekindle the moment even if they retreat to one of their bedrooms. The more sensible, the part unencumbered by lust, knows the moment is lost.

"It's not Banner's bare behind that I'm worried about seeing Romanoff, between you and Pepper, it's yours that is a danger to my personal safety."

"Good to know you know you're aware of your boundaries, Stark," Natasha replies with narrowed eyes.

Bruce coughs slightly, turning to his friend before he can think of a reply which will land him in more trouble. "I assume you had a reason for coming in."

"I've been sent to retrieve you on official business," he explains. "Hill sent out the bat signal –she's got a lead on the Sceptre."

…

Maria Hill briefs them as fully as she can.

She refuses to name her source, much to the teams' annoyance. She silences their concerns by assuring them that she trusts the source. It quietens them without much satisfaction, untill JARVIS presents them with the information from the searches Tony instructed him to run. The AI located the factory in the rural nation of Sokovia, close to the nation's capital, which had been hit hard in the past by military unrest. Consequently, the locals were reluctant to trust outsiders to the point they actively protested any interference, meaning the Avengers expected a hostile reception. Of course, they were still sending the Iron Legion to protect the civilians, as well as monitor them for any reinforcements being sent to the fortress once they launched their attack.

Satellite photos revealed bunkers in the woods surrounding the stronghold, as well as an increased influx of people and steady stream of vehicles on patrol, as well as several outbuildings which appeared to be checkpoints, and given previous missions they were assuming tanks were in place, particularly given the apparent resources. JARVIS also provided details suggesting whoever is running the factory is selling advanced weaponry to local militia.

Steve noted they should aim a dawn attack, hitting the compound hard before HYDRA has the chance to move on and they wind up being hustled into the Quinjet a couple of hours before dawn. The flight is uneventful as they drift through the grey clouds.

Upon Steve's instruction, much to Tony's mock chagrin, they land the Quinjet in a clearing a few miles south of the compound so they don't alert HYDRA to their imminent arrival. Bruce hovers in the background as Natasha and Clint ready the jeep they are going to drive through the dense woods.

"I'm driving," Natasha informs her partner with a smirk.

"Flip you for it," comes Barton's flippant reply, looking at a tad green at her statement.

"Sorry partner, someone's got to cover our asses when HYDRA notice our approach."

Bruce meets her eye as she winks at him, flirty and full of promise, and over before anyone else can notice. He huffs out a laugh at her teasing, and when Barton looks at him he offers the archer a conciliatory glance; they've all ridden with Natasha behind the wheel at some point since they first met her.

"As if your driving isn't going to give us away," Tony pipes up from the pilots' chair behind Bruce. He'll suit up when the others set out so they time their attack. Apart from air recon, the team decided he will be the one who will retrieve the Sceptre if they find it. Normally, Natasha would be the one sent in, as his suit should offer him some protection against the Sceptres' affects, he was chosen to infiltrate the compound instead of being their distraction.

As previously agreed, Bruce plans on staying in the jet till someone declares it's a Code Green situation. They don't need the Other Guy giving away their surprise attack by tearing through the forest surrounding the compound. Not that Bruce's eager to join in, he'll be happy to wait for them on the Quinjet.

No matter how many times he's 'suited up' with the rest of them, he never brings himself to expect to change. It's still a surprise when one them calls for him, deeming him the cavalry they need. While he's filled with the urge to be near Natasha, he observes their unspoken rule of keeping their keeping a professional distance when in the presence of the rest of the team. They've already been outed to Tony, but he doesn't know if she's ready for the others to know just yet, or if she cares if it's any of their business.

Sensing his eyes on her, Natasha lifts her head as she finishes taping a gun filled holster to the underside of the glove compartment. He knows she is carrying an arsenal of weapons on her person in addition to the batons he and Tony designed to work with her suit. He meets her green eyes, and they seem darker as they reflect the early morning fog filtering through the trees outside the jet's window. Her face softens as if realising his need. It's frightening how much he needs her, not just him either, the Hulk too. He's never reacted this way with anyone, not even Betty. The Other Guy listened to her, certainly, but he never relinquished control for her.

She makes him better. Bruce is proud of what Natasha's achieved with the other guy, proud the Other Guy let her. It makes him proud of his involvement with the Avengers.

Natasha, who is always aware of those around her and their focus, closes the gap between them with a few steps. Her voice is low, her face still soft but not giving away her concern. "I'll see you after," she promises.

"Have you given much thought to why a powerful being such as the Hulk is willing to yield to you Lady Natasha?" Comes Thor's voice from across the jet. He's standing close to the bay doors, waiting impatiently for Tony to open them so he can unleash himself upon their enemy.

A look of annoyance flutters across her face as the God brings attention to their proximity.

"I have," Tony interjects enthusiastically. Bruce holds his breath waiting for his friend's response with equal parts trepidation and relief as Tony seems to have taken the other's focus from them. "After much thought and deliberation, I've come to the conclusion it's part of his fight or flight response, out of pure duress he has no option than to surrender." He pauses for dramatic effect, looking at each of his audience in turn who are watching him with bemused expressions waiting for his punchline. "Let's get real here people, the Big Guy is just as scared of her as the rest of us are."

As the rest of the cabin titters with laughter, Bruce watches a spark light up her eyes as she watches release a breath of relief before contorting her mouth to curl proudly at his proclamation. "Damn right, too."

Then she steps back from him and their short-lived moment, climbing into the jeep beside Barton as he steadies himself in the passenger seat. Steve straddles his bike and Thor hoists Mjolnir as he prepares to take flight. Tony stands at the door controls, and with a nod from Steve he lowers the bay doors. Bruce watches the jeep as it rolls down the ramp and into the woods.

The sounds of an Iron Man suit building itself around Tony distracts Bruce from watching the other Avengers disappear between the trees. Steve insisted he needed to be ready when they landed in case of a surprise ambush whereas Tony said it would hinder him from piloting the Quinjet if HYDRA launched an air strike. To Bruce, both eventualities were just as likely, and he would have believed the reasons were genuine if it weren't for the way Tony antagonised Steve about it. Sometimes the billionaire argues for the sake of arguing, especially with Steve. Bruce sighs. One day, their continuous clashing and competitiveness could end up dividing the team and cause an unfixable rift. If that day ever comes, Bruce suspects they will miss each other more than they think possible.

His friend takes his position beside him, his face plate flipped up. "She'll find you," Tony promises solemnly, surprising Bruce with his vehemence.

Instead of questioning it, he replies, "She always does."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author Note – So much for updating quickly, huh? Real life demanded my attention. Your comments are so wonderful and I want to hug you all – thanks for still reading. A massive thank you to my beta, Black Victor Cachat.**

 **This chapter is set after the opening fight scene in** _ **Age of Ultron**_ **when Barton is injured but before he receives treatment from Doctor Cho, starting with Bruce's costume change from the sweatshirt on the plane to shirt.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter thirteen

After they land the Quinjet, Barton is left with the Avenger's Towers medical bay in the capable hands of Doctor Cho to recover from his deep wound, while the rest of the team steal away to shower and change before their debriefing with Hill after retrieving Loki's Spector. Natasha had lingered in Bruce's lab for a few minutes when Clint was being prepped for the machine which would supposedly heal his abdomen; she'd seen the damage on scene and was reluctant to leave her best friend, but Clint was completely lucid when he asked her to take a few minutes for herself.

Heading toward her room, intent on changing out of her suit, Natasha pauses in the hall outside her room and glances at Bruce's door opposite.

" _It's not you I don't trust."_

His words about trusting her echoing in her head, she crosses the hall and knocks on Bruce's bedroom door once before turning the handle to enter. The sound of the shower running greets her as soon as she pokes her head around the door. Still in her suit, Natasha ponders joining him as she slips through the opening. She pauses, considers her suit fastenings before dismissing the notion – it's not the right time, she decides; they're not ready to push their recently redefined boundaries. When they are she wants more than a quick fumble in the shower. She wants him to be completely relaxed when they cross that line so he can enjoy their coupling.

Neither of which will happen at this moment in time.

He's tense from the recent transformation, and she is too if she's honest which is probably why she wants to be close to him. And she's on the clock, wanting to get back to Clint soon, so she is clear on the details of his injuries that she'll need to relay to a heavily pregnant Laura.

Sighing in frustration, Natasha settles on the end of Bruce's bed to wait for him. Her legs cross as she leans back on her hands. Eyeing the steam emanating from the ensuite, she manages to discern a soft humming through the water. Raising an eyebrow at the off-key tune, she files the information away for later. He'll be mortified once he releases she's been listening to him shower, let alone knows his musical stylings. Who knew she would fall for a dork? And the fact remains, he hasn't begun to comprehend his effect on her.

That makes him more appealing. The water stops running and seconds later Bruce emerges from the bathroom with one towel tucked around his waist and another drying the mass of curls on his head. He takes three steps into the room before he notices her lounging on his bed, and stops dumbly just past his dresser. He huffs out a laugh, quirking his lips as he ducks his head self-consciously as his hand drying his hair drops the towel to his chest, concealing the blush emanating from the light hairs covering his torso.

"Note to self, have JARVIS warn me if someone is in my room," Bruce deadpans as he takes in her position on his bed. Her lips crack just a tad.

"Hey Doc," she greets stretching her legs out in front of her, letting them unfold before re-crossing them at the ankle.

"Hey," Bruce returns. "What are you doing in here?"

"Wanted to surprise you," Natasha impishly shrugs.

"It's a nice surprise," he says carefully opening a drawer while trying to keep his towel cinched at his waist. He pulls out some boxers and socks and lays them on top of the dresser before shutting the drawer. He makes no move to put either on as he faces her again.

"Maybe next time I'll join you in the shower," she teases, watching the fractional widening of his eyes as he resumes drying himself. His eyes cloud over, studying her for a fraction longer than he usually does before looking away and clearing his throat.

"On the jet, you asked when I am going to trust you. Do you really doubt my trust in you?" He asks, the towel pausing mid chest. He looks so thoughtful and vulnerable in that moment, almost afraid of her answer.

"Somethings are hard to recognise when you don't experience them," she replies, sitting up. Relieved he actually brought it up rather than her having to draw the conversation out of him; though his direct approach means she's the one explaining herself.

The look he gives her is void of pity, just pure empathy. He takes half a step toward her before hesitating. His impulse to comfort her is endearing, except she isn't used to the physical kind of reassurance he's offering, no matter what's happening between them physically, and she's touched by his hesitation once he realises she probably won't react well to the gesture. It just proves how far they've come; months ago, he wouldn't have contemplated making such a move, he would sit with her quietly and his gentle presence would soothe her. Now it's his first instinct, just as she feels the longing for his now familiar touch.

"Words don't mean much for either of us," he starts. "But if I didn't trust you, believe in you, I wouldn't have agreed to let you work with him."

"I lie for a living, Bruce."

"They're words you use to survive, Natasha," Bruce counters lightly, unfazed by her assertion. "What you and I have done with the Hulk, with each other, I've never done with anyone else. I never wanted to. I don't think I could've trusted anyone else to do it."

Just like his statement on the plane, his words are tinged with sadness, though no less earnest. Hugely daunting, pushing her to either reciprocate, or to up the ante. It is as if his raw sentiment is pushing her psyche towards either self-destruction or increased self-preservation, and she cannot differentiate between them. Her words tumble from her mouth without filter, "There's something you should know." She pauses watching his expression morph and harden in an instant, probably without him even realizing it, she notes, at her warning "I went to see the facility Stark is building at the warehouse we used to train with the Hulk."

"Why?" He sounds so guarded that she's hesitant to explain it to him.

"Stark offered me a job with the Relief Foundation," she announces, all the while keeping her eyes on his as they turn glazed over.

"You're leaving," he surmises with his next breath.

"We found the Sceptre," she says avoiding a definitive answer.

"We didn't know that was going to happen so soon when you talked to him," he guesses as the time line clicks in his head. Her absence directly before Tony announced the briefing, their private moment completely shattered.

"No," Natasha admits with a wince.

She had arrived back from her trip to find Bruce half asleep and alone in his lab. feeling despondent with their lack of success. Her intention had been to tell him about the facility and discuss the offer Stark made, except he looked so endearing that she wanted to take his mind away from their work, their situation, their life. She let herself get a little lost in the intimacy when he met her with equal passion.

Now she hopes he won't see that moment as a betrayal.

"You're leaving," he sounds like he's testing the words to get used to the notion.

"You could've discussed it with me," Bruce tells her.

He is not dismissing her suggestion, yet it's not an answer either. "I know," she admits. It's difficult to suggest change to him, and she needed to be sure of what she wanted before speaking to him about it. "I know you're upset with me, but after all of this, you're the only thing here for me. After the party, Barton's out, Thor's going back to Asgard, Steve's itching to look for Barnes without distraction."

"And I'm not enough," he shrugs.

"I was hoping you would come with me," she counters quickly. She needs him to be clear on the distinction. He stops suddenly, his face blank. She can see his mind working and slowly sees that flowing onto his face. She's never ached like she does when she watches him, waiting for him to reject her.

"I was hoping you'd stay," he earnestly replies, his genuine hope diminishing by the second.

"And do what, hang around waiting for you to finish in the lab at the end of the day?"

His stricken face nigh on crushes her argument. He hasn't been idle in his down time, re-establishing ties to the scientific community while the Avengers was somewhat of a side-gig for him. He's on the cusp of the life he envisioned when he started his career which was cut short by his accident.

"That's not what I meant," Bruce shakes his head. "You're putting words in my mouth."

"I know," she says apologetically. She knows it is wrong to accuse him of having expectations; he doesn't have any of her except the truth. Now he knows her truth is lies. Becoming defensive and riling him won't achieve anything except widen the rapidly forming chasm between them. "Sorry," it sounds emptier than she intends.

"Natasha," he sighs pleadingly bring her attention back to him. "Talk to me. Please."

"I'm not sure I can let this go," Natasha breathes out.

"This?"

"The job," she explains. "We found the Sceptre, it's done and I'm not. And I don't know if I can walk away from it."

"What makes you think you should?"

"Because it has to end someday. Retirement seems a little anti-climactic compared to the one I always envisioned when I was training in the Red Room," she tries to play off her admission with watery smile and a shake of her head. "But what else am I going to do? My reputation precedes me; the Government still holds a grudge over my files and even after being an Avenger my credibility is sketchy. Stark wants me to organise the Foundation, arrange protection for the medics and aid workers while they operate in active war zones. I figured this'll be another, quicker way to clear my ledger with even less blood on my hands." Natasha blinks away her tears and inclines her head at him. "Then there's you."

"Me?"

"You don't exactly approve of my skill set," she points out playfully with a cocked eyebrow. "You don't like being an Avenger."

"No, although I was fully aware of it when we first met, before I agreed to become an Avenger and way before we started…um…"

"Kissing?" She provides helpfully with a slight slant of her lips.

"Yeah, that's a, um, nice bonus but not just that," he huffs out unable to subdue a slight smile of his own. "What I'm trying to say is your skill set has no bearing on how I feel about you, nor does being an Avenger," Bruce says, stepping closer to her.

"I just thought after helping people while you were travelling, would enjoy working with the Relief Foundation too. You're good with wounded in the field. Coming with me will also mean giving up your lab here which is fully equipped with the latest gadgets."

"I lived without them for years Natasha, so lack of equipment bothers me less than you think it might. It sounds like a good idea but I would have preferred it if you spoke to me first, Natasha." He takes a second to steady himself. She nods. "We can't be everything for each other, we shouldn't be. It's not exactly healthy to fixate on each other. Our lives shouldn't revolve around the other. We need other interests, other people in our lives that we care about, good friends who we can confide in when we get caught up in each other."

"Like Stark?" She wrinkles her nose. She has Clint on her side except Bruce isn't privy to his private family to understand their role in Natasha's life, something she would like to remedy soon after reveal their relationship to the rest of the team, although she will defer to Clint to decide if and when that happens.

"Not just him," Bruce grimaces at her expression. Then his mind considers who else they could turn to and he lets out a grumble of his own as he points out, "Though out of our mutual friends he's the only one of them who has managed to maintain a somewhat stable relationship, and that's no mean feat considering he manages to get himself in trouble several times a day without trying."

As if on cue, the man in question walks past the door which is still slightly ajar. His phone is to his ear as he presumably talks to his beloved, thankfully paying them no attention.

"Just to clarify before I open my mouth and dig myself a hole I have no hope of getting myself out of," comes Tony's smooth verbal hyperbole. "Do you already know the answer, and you're testing me on whether I'll fess up, or you don't know the answer and you're just curious?"

His shadow passes down the hall and out of ear shot before Bruce gestures at the door, proving his point. "I think we all know how that conversation is going to go."

"Pepper has the patience of a saint," Natasha jokes. She has to admit Tony's commitment to Pepper is unquestionable, and he strives to make up for whatever mistakes he makes as he fumbles his way through their relationship. Though his advice may be questionable at times, it's always an interesting take. As friends go, they could do worse for relationship advice.

"I understand Natasha, I do," Bruce continues. "You know I care about you and I can't ignore how I feel. But there's a lot of expectations, a lot of obligation. With our history, not many people would expect either of us to be willing to explore our feelings, and for us to do so, they are going to assume this'll be some sort of happily ever after when they find out about us." His sad laugh clenches around her insides. "It's rather intimidating actually, and it would be difficult to admit to one another when we're unhappy. Because of our particular circumstances, we might be unable to sever our ties if, in the future, we need to separate."

"What are you talking about?"

"We both have history Natasha, enemies who could come for us any day," Bruce explains. "I guess I want to know, if Ross came for me, that you will walk away and let me handle it. I don't want him to use you against me and I don't want to drag you into a situation where you have to defend me or the Hulk, causing you to risk all that you've achieved."

"Can you make me the same promise? If anyone comes after me, would you walk away?"

He's already shaking his head before she finishes her counter question. She knows deep down she won't leave him alone, nor would he if it came to it. He wouldn't have shown up in New York if he was that man. "Then don't ask me to do it," Natasha replies. There's no use arguing about it.

"Fine," Bruce accepts clearly not entirely comfortable with the idea, only yielding because he knows it would be hard for both of them to walk away from such a situation. He carefully sits next to her, one hand securing the towel as the other covers her hands in her lap. Her fingers open automatically and curl to interlock with his.

"Bruce, the purpose of having a relationship, a partner, is that they will back your play or be right by your side swinging when you can't. And being able to call in the rest of your friends is an added bonus. Especially our particular band of friends."

He is honestly taken aback by her belief the team would step in if he was targeted in the future by Ross or any of his lackies, it's only overshadowed by the words directly preceding them. "Is that what we have? A relationship?"

She blinks at him; she's always careful about what she says yet it had slipped out without filter. She stands by it though. "Yes," she confirms holding his gaze.

A second later, Bruce's guarded expression drops as he bobs his head and grips her hand tighter, uttering firmly, "Good." His lips form a quick yet warm smile. "I'm not asking for forever, I don't expect it."

"I know," she says feeling sheepish. She pulls her lip between her teeth lightly. "I needed a plan, one I wanted to include you, and I thought this would suit both of us. You loved helping people in Calcutta, you love helping people after we're finished in the field."

"You're not wrong," Bruce relents fondly. "We can start with one day and see what happens."

Her lips curl. "I'd like that."

His head bows slightly, bringing him into her space as he speaks, "I think, I hope, we finally have the opportunity to make a choice, something that isn't a burden or a responsibility. What we already have with each other is pretty incredible and it'd be nice to build on that."

She leans in and brushes her lips against his. His hand squeezes hers as the hold the kiss for longer than she intended. Slowly the bodies shift toward one another. One hand slips out from under his to cup his jaw, feeling the residual dampness on his skin. Feeling emboldened Natasha pulls back slightly to meet his eyes to see the apprehension and that now familiar heady sensation overcomes her. She can sense his expectation, feels him steady himself for it.

While they've shared a lot between them, it doesn't mean it's the right time to bare their soul any further to each other beyond what they've already said and that's enough for her. With this in mind she leans in slowly, almost shyly and Bruce isn't unaffected by it either, as they pause and rest their foreheads together. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and she can almost feel his heart beat through his skin. Her smile is unforced as she inclines her head, grazing his cheek with hers before moving closer to his mouth.

"Sorry for interrupting Miss Romanoff, Doctor Banner, but Doctor Cho is ready to begin healing Agent Barton," JARVIS announces from above.

"I'm going to devise a 'Do not Disturb' protocol for you JARVIS," Natasha growls impatiently at the AI.

"Mister Stark already has one for his personal settings Miss Romanoff, if you like I can assign the same protocol to yours so you can request it when you require it in the future."

"Thank you for being so obliging," Natasha rolls her eyes at Bruce who shakes his head at the AI's response.

"You're welcome, Miss Romanoff, I shall inform Doctor Cho you are on your way."

Disappointment is like a dead weight dropped on her as she pulls away from him; her partner needs her. Bruce's reaction is mixed and contagious as his face lights up as he gets up and rapidly starts dressing, pulling on his briefs on under his towel before grabbing some trousers from the chair in the corner. "You've got to see this," he tells her oblivious of the show he's putting on for her.

She watches with interest. "Oh, I am," she informs him with an exaggerated once over when he crosses to his wardrobe to pull out a chequered shirt.

"Huh?" He pauses holding the hanger in one hand and the collar in the other suddenly realising he's still bare chested. "Oh, um," his stammering is too much temptation for her.

"I've already seen you naked Bruce," she reminds him.

"Why does everyone fixate on that?" Bruce grumbles good naturedly.

"I can't speak for everyone else, but personally I'm looking to even the score one day."

"You are?"

The pure surprise on his face makes her want to kiss it off; instead she shrugs. "You came close to it twice in the last twenty-four hours," she tells him matter-of-factly.

He swallows loudly and she laughs. "Really?"

She flirts with plenty of people, sparking numerous rumours of fictitious relationships and liaisons. At some point since the Avengers formed, tabloids have linked her with every other member of the team, she had rolled her eyes at each headline, except Bruce. Hulk aside, he's intelligent, charming, sweet, sensitive and occasionally oblivious to the depth of her feelings or why she is attracted to him.

"Yeah," she pushes up off his bed and leans in to kiss him lightly on the lips, grinning at his attempt to return it despite the odd angle of the way he's holding his hands. "Now it'll probably have to wait till after your play date with Stark and the Sceptre."

He is gracious enough to look torn, yet his excitement is clear.

"You're such a dork," she tells him affectionately. "I'm practically throwing myself at you and you're actually giddy at the prospect of three days locked in the lab with alien technology and Tony Stark."

"Yeah but think of the possibilities," Bruce says pulling on his shirt still partially conflicted by his choices of staying with her and working with Stark. "Even if we can just scratch the surface of how it's powered, the advancements could be endless."

"I think it's a slim possibility that you'll go three days without setting off the fire alarm," she deadpans.

"We don't always set off the fire alarm, it's just hyper sensitive."

"Still, I think an argument can be made for you two having a chaperone."

"Are you volunteering?" He says brightening. He makes quick work of the buttons of his shirt.

"As fun as that sounds, I'm going to say no," Natasha replies as he closes the wardrobe. She leads the way to the door, pausing as she grasps it. "Though, I could be persuaded to drop in if you ever need distracting."

"I _am_ your willing distract-ee."

…

A day later Natasha looks up from the book she's reading when she senses Barton approach. Not that his footsteps are anything, but light, it's simply that she's accustomed to his silent movement, and the change in the air rather than listening for him. He barely makes a sound until he's rounding the end of the couch and falls onto the cushions with an exaggerated huff as his feet kick up on to the coffee table, his boots marring the glass top with slight smears. Her lip crooks upward, "Stark'd make you use a coaster."

His head bobs back and forth slightly with his silent laughter, a wide smirk dividing his face. His feet stay where they are. "Yeah, but I'm pretty certain he causes more damage to this place with his experiments than I will with my feet."

"I don't know, take your boots off and the smell may endanger the immediate population."

Still facing forward, he snickers. He doesn't give her a once over to check if her joke is a deflection. He knows it is. She drops the easy pretence; a cursory glance at their surroundings isn't needed. He wouldn't have approached her if it was. She relaxes into the couch and closes the book, letting it slide into the space between them. Although his face is a mask of playful charm, she can see his mind working. He's worried about her, what she's going to do now they've found the Sceptre and it is safely ensconced in Bruce's lab while he and Stark play with it.

They would describe it differently of course, as an attempt to map the technology, figure out how it works, but essentially, they are playing with Loki's Sceptre because as brilliant as they are, three days is relatively short when dealing with alien technology. Knowing them, they could spend the next three years locked in the lab with it and still be elated by the discovery. Thor's happy to let them do it without supervision and Steve and Barton concurred, trying to cover the fact that even if they watched, neither of them would really understand it and their interest would run out much quicker than the Science Bros. Simply, they'd grow bored while Bruce and Stark had all the fun.

She's drifted in and out a couple of times since they landed after their last mission in Sokovia two days ago, not staying for longer than a few minutes. They never kicked her out; Bruce didn't anyway, he looked torn between following her out and going back to his calculations. In the end she took pity on his indecision and exchanged her usual barbs with Stark, for the sake of appearance, before leaving them to it. Truthfully, if she and Bruce were fortunate to have the opportunity to rekindle their interrupted intimacy from the other night, she would have taken advantage of it. She's missed him despite being meters away.

"You know you're always welcome," Clint invites in a low voice.

"I know," she replies without him having to be explicit. "You don't have to worry about me, you have other priorities that require your attention, and another one imminent. They need you more than me," she says under her breath in case someone is in the vicinity. And even then they are deliberately vague.

He nods absently, a little worried about how he'll juggle a third child, the rest of his family —which they insist she's a part of— and the possibility of being called out of his planned retirement by whoever may come knocking a few years in the future. They're both fully aware Fury may seek them out at some point to tie up his loose ends, but for now this is where Clint bows out. Natasha has fretted over how to tell him that she's not far behind, only she hasn't cemented her plans yet, nor will she join him at the farm until after her namesake is born.

"You gonna hang around here?" Clint questions with genuine surprise. It's been a long time since she's been able to shock him, if she ever truly did.

"Not sure," she replies honestly. There was a time she would've jumped at the chance to join him at the farm. But that's his life, not hers. "Stark asked me to join the Relief Foundation," Natasha informs him and watches to gage his reaction.

He accepts it like he does most things; without batting an eye. "It's a good move," Clint decides after a moment.

Something akin to relief flows through her even if she doesn't relax as she waits for the rest of his assessment. "You think so?"

"Yeah," he gruffly agrees.

She watches him impassively out of the corner of her eye, and wonders if he would feel different if he knew about her and Bruce. The two men have spoken a handful of times, and he's never really offered an opinion on the scientist; it's nothing personal, it's just that they rarely interact, and they don't have much common ground except for her and she's almost certain Clint has no clue of the change in their relationship. He knows her boundaries, and will never judge her or her choices, and she doubts he'd ever give Bruce the protective big brother speech. Bruce may appreciate it but the Hulk certainly won't. More than likely, Clint'll just shrug it off. Still, she's not sure if she's ready to share Bruce with him. They really had no choice with Stark, it was inevitable. The man seems to have a radar honed to any kind of sexual attraction.

"How's your side?" Natasha asks with the intention of leading the conversation in some sort of way back to Bruce.

Clint shrugs. "Good as new," he simply explains. "A little weird, weeks-worth of healing crammed into twenty minutes under a laser. Kinda miss healing the old-fashioned way," he frowns, contemplating his abdomen by lifting up the bottom of his shirt to expose his blemish free torso. "Do you think Laura will be able to tell the difference?"

Natasha takes a good look at the area, imagining the gaping wound she bandaged up on that frozen ground in rural Sokovia. "She'll know," Natasha tells him with certainty.

Hill walks into the room with a folder under her arm, her face as impassive as always. She stalks toward them and holds it out to Natasha, telling her "You already know the contract, but just for the sake of a tick in a box and paperwork, here's a copy. Though I wish you will reconsider my request."

Fury's former second in command all but flops on to the seat opposite the assassins. Sitting with a verbal exhale, this is the least controlled Natasha has seen the usually reserved woman.

"What's your request?" Clint questions as he gives Natasha a pointed look; she's consulted Hill before him. She hasn't said much to the other woman; the information must've come from Stark or she found out about the tour. Neither would shock Natasha.

Hill breathes in her nose loudly as her eyes become steely. "To take over as head of security for Stark Industries. She's familiar with the company and its' holdings, already knows the weak areas which need to be improved upon, and she'll probably do it with less than half the complaints Happy gets."

Clint looks half amused at the explanation. "Isn't he one of Stark's closest friends?"

Friend is ambiguous description. Stark was never really close to anyone growing up besides his parents and Jarvis. He partied with people who wanted to be linked to the billionaire and heir to one of the worlds biggest companies. He didn't have friends, he had connections. No one cared about him only what he could do for them, not till Pepper anyway. Happy was hired to babysit a playboy, not nearly as competent as Natasha would expect to be hired for such a high-profile figure. Bodyguards are supposed to be a visual deterrent through their physical stature though inconspicuous when the situation calls for it. Happy has an innate clumsiness which negates such a position. Natasha suspects the young Tony Stark only hired him because it would the easiest way to be given enough leeway to continue his lifestyle by bringing Happy into it. Natasha has to give him credit for sticking it out with someone as difficult as Tony. Instead of the usual hangers on, Happy stood the test of time proving his genuine friendship and loyalty.

"He's not as mobile since the bombing," Hill reasons. "Still using a cane. I've spoken to Pepper, who agrees that other employees aren't _happy_ with Happy, except she doesn't want it to seem like she's forcing him out of his job. If you agree to step in, she's going to ask him to take up the position as her personal bodyguard once he regains the full use of his leg."

Stark suggested the same thing after she came back from the tour she took of the warehouse. Additional multi-storey buildings had been built, and were currently being readied for whatever the foundation needed. She knows the man prides himself on his facilities, treating his staff to the best he can buy or design. His generosity is one of the few things he's modest about, even before being kidnapped, proving he's not a complete ass. She'd been impressed with the speed of the development, though confused by the training facilities. As usual, the equipment is top quality for a wide array training purposes, yet it's all on such a large scale it's something she would expect for troops training for combat, rather than people providing care for countries recovering from natural and man-made destruction. If she was any one other than any of Stark's team mates she would've presumed he was building his own private army; something his enemies will no doubt start whispering about once the Relief Foundation is revealed to the public. But that's something to cross when it happens.

She even managed to sneak a peek at the labs, mapping the blank space in her mind with how Bruce's lab is currently laid out. "It seems like Stark is looking to expand on the Relief Foundation, bring a lot more people in," Natasha comments to Hill.

"Not just the Foundation, he wants it to be Stark Industries' base of operations. He's moving out of the city," Hill explains. "After Aldrich Killian blew up his mansion, he doesn't want any comebacks on the citizens living here if anyone decides to target the company or him. Especially HYDRA. What did you think of the space?"

"It's remote, lots of space, no onlookers or bystanders," Natasha lists. "Thought Stark was kicking us out."

"No, sorry to burst your bubble, Romanoff, the rest of the Tower is moving with you. Including the labs," Hill tacks on meaningfully. "If Banner wants, he has a better chance to expand on the control he's managed to achieve with the Hulk. For the first time since the accident he has the chance to monitor his transformations, hopefully make it easier if he has to return to the field."

"That's his decision, and I won't push him on it. I doubt Stark would either. But it's all dependent on if he wants to go," Natasha points out with a slight hiss, trying to will the usually stoic, tight lipped woman to keep her mouth shut. The other woman is still thinking and behaving like a SHIELD operative. Natasha isn't surprised, Stark Industries is a cover for her. "He doesn't know about moving the labs."

"No one does, not yet," Hill replies. "As soon as the Relief Foundation move in, we'll prepare the rest of the company. It's a matter of logistics at the moment." The steady confidence and certainty in her voice reminds them of her briefings at SHIELD, direct and efficient leaving no room for argument.

"Banner won't like the secrets," Natasha warns. She thought Stark would've told Bruce considering how close they are. Stark is skirting a fine line and he would have to start talking soon or he was going to run the risk of being compared to Nick Fury. "The Relief Foundation is starting to sound like the start of something bigger than what Stark pitched to me."

During her tour, she'd purposefully didn't make comparisons to anything akin to SHIELD. The similarities were difficult to ignore but given Stark's reaction to his fathers' role in the conception of SHIELD, they were easier to overlook. Once upon a time, he actively resisted walking in his father's shadow. Now the new compound looked like something Howard Stark would've been proud of especially with its' supposed purpose. She fully intends to utilise the resources to help as many people as possible. She expects it to mainly entail providing medical care for civilians affected by collateral damage from military combat. Only she won't be one of those involved in the combat.

"He's expanding on his ideas, and I don't think he's talked about all them to anyone but Pepper," Hill explains. "Times have changed, and the reality now is nothing is certain."

"It won't be like SHIELD," Clint reminds them both.

"That's not a bad thing," Natasha counters. Although she appreciates what he and Fury did for her, she's not looking to recreate that time of her life. She wants to move on from fighting. "I know I need something different and this might be it."

Probably as close to normal as she's ever known or going to get.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author Note – I have to say a massive thank you to Black' Victor Cachat because without their support, this story wouldn't have been half as fun or interesting. Check out their new story The (Alien) Sun is Going Down.**

 **It's been an extra long wait so here's an extra-long offering.**

Rooftop Conversations – chapter 14

" _It is always important to know when something has reached its end. Closing circles, shutting doors, finishing chapters, it doesn't matter what we call it; what matters is to leave in the past those moments in life that are over." ―_ _Paulo Coelho_ _,_ _The Zahir_

The road to one's happily ever after is never easy. Or at least it shouldn't be. The whole concept is a fairy tale which many rarely achieve; the best someone can hope for is being content, without regret.

Bruce Banner never considered either notion attainable for him, even when he was with Betty. The shadows his father cast upon his life taunted him even when he grew-up and was in love. However, Bruce persevered because Betty made him happy, hopeful for a peaceful future. There was even talk of children, a dream he held closely to his chest despite his doubts of ever being a capable role model for a child, when he never experienced it himself. Betty had a wonderful mother who compensated for the time the General spent away or was emotionally distant from his children.

Then came the accident, and years on the run; convincing him he was the monster people saw him as, and his father threatened he would become. After rejecting Betty and her help, Bruce did everything he could to cure himself so he could one day return to her. Each failed attempt destroying a part of him, leading him on a bleak path of hopelessness. At his lowest, he ate a bullet and his green counterpart spat it out.

After that, Bruce managed some semblance of control over his rage monster. He doesn't know how he did it, he wasn't doing anything different. Meditation, breathing, obsessively doing everything in his control to temper his heart beat. In a fleeting moment, he considered the Other Guy was giving him a break after his attempt to end it all. There were plenty of people after them, they didn't need to turn on each other.

Bruce ambled on, eventually ending up in India and doling out medical assistance to those who didn't readily have access to it. He enjoyed the meagre job at the small clinic, he was interacting with people but it was safe. He felt safe.

Enter Natasha Romanoff.

The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

He waltzed into her trap-shack to be confronted by the Black Widow, who, with minimal make-up to highlight her natural beauty, and a flowing dress over her curves, embodying everything he had grown to distrust. She was here to bring him in. Introducing herself as a SHIELD representative, she didn't disappoint when she began to compliment his mind, drawing him in with science like she had with the little girl asking him to save her family. The soft warm glow illuminating her flawless fair skin. He tempered his features as he engaged her, travelling around the one-storey hut his eyes naturally fell on the windows, the swaying curtains giving nothing away of her back up. There was no way she was bringing him in solo.

He growled tellingly about not getting what he wanted, while pushing the rickety cradle. She listened, unfazed of course. She just sat there, calm, collected, confident. Her open body language was quite irritating, and so help him, he wanted to mess with her. She brought it upon herself, really. She caught him off-guard, so it was only fair play.

He raised his voice and slammed the table when she insisted they were after the scientist rather than the monster. She drew the gun from under the table so smoothly as she stood, aiming at his face. Seeing the slight tremble as her finger curled around the trigger as she fought to regain control, Bruce brought his hands up in a gesture to signify his surrender and apologised even as he released a quiet chuckle at his prank. Their eyes held as she spoke into her ear piece, and Bruce was struck by the guarded vulnerability in her green eyes with hazel flecks.

Unlike other operatives who had come for him in the past, there was something different about the woman who was brave enough to face him alone. Who was good enough to convince him to reveal his monster, the side of him that was independent of the Hulk and did not rely upon him, when there was no need. The threat and circumstances seemed credible enough for him to agree to travel with her; he didn't really put any credence in the part where the Other Guy could stay out of it; if this was a trap that option was his exit strategy.

That particular option doesn't appeal to him in this very moment, as he's pretty certain the Hulk will stay close to Natasha if he was given the choice. Their relationship has changed from their first interaction in that shack, the thick tension caused by his antipathy toward an organisation such as SHIELD and her unwavering personification of it. There were fleeting moments when he felt a flicker of intrigue for the mysterious woman, like when she defended his offhand joking assessment of Loki being crazy.

Their first _adventure_ was wrought with stress of the whole situation, one which promised imminent death or imprisonment, and along with the Sceptre's influence, he was feeling the pressure of being on edge. And as the one who brought him into all this, she was the one who bared the brunt of his snappy comebacks especially when she tried to corral him just before Barton attacked the Helicarrier to liberate Loki. He was absolutely horrified when he realised his greener, meaner half had focused his anger on her. Fortunately, she was still in one piece after dodging the Hulk till Thor intervened, and seeing her in person when he arrived in New York was a relief.

Granted, it had also been during a full-fledged alien invasion.

" _So, this all seems horrible," Bruce says_ _,_ _dismounting the motorcycle and approaching the others._

" _I've seen worse," Natasha informs him coolly._

 _Her words cause him to stop, briefly reconsider his decision to show up. He assesses her reserved stance, the look in her eyes remind him of the one she had in the hut._ _He truly feels… "Sorry," he says directly to her._

 _Her head shakes as she amends her words sincerely, invitingly, "No, we could use a little worse."_

He never fathomed the impact she would have on his life back then.

Natasha Romanoff. The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

For the better.

Twenty-four hours in to their extended lab session, Tony steps out to call Pepper to cajole her to attend tomorrow night's revels to celebrate retrieving Loki's Sceptre. Bruce only needs to glance at his friend's tired harried face to know the conversation isn't going how he wants. Pepper's busy, and her scheduled was devised long before they got a tip pinpointing the Sceptres' location. Bruce doesn't blame Tony for wanting to celebrate with his significant other. He also doesn't blame Pepper for keeping her distance – the Avengers are a group with big personalities, and who are naturally competitive. Even one-on-one Bruce sometimes finds it difficult to deal with them himself, and when they get together they tend to exasperate those qualities.

Taking the opportunity to have a break from his calculations for making Ultron, while his friend is distracted, Bruce quickly goes to Tony's work station where he's left his personal files open and pulls up the schematics for the new upstate compound Natasha told him about. Usually Bruce wouldn't even contemplate violating his friends' personal work, but Tony has kept him out of the loop on plans which directly involve him and Natasha and their relationship. As far as Bruce is concerned, after this and an explanation from Tony as to why he kept quiet, they'll be even.

He manipulates the holographic blueprints, expanding it the cover the empty space in the centre of the lab before examining it from every angle. Eyeing the extensive training facilities, he notes the reinforced, extra high ceilings in the gym. The materials and fittings are all to the same standard Bruce insisted they use on the Hulk tank. He is impressed, and he can see why it would appeal to Natasha. From their weekend training with the Hulk, Bruce knows how isolated it is; there are no onlookers around for miles. It would also be easy to spot any kind of breach of security, or imminent attack, without having to worry about hurting bystanders. In contrast, if there was an attack on the Avengers Tower, he would have to stay hidden because he daren't risk letting the Other Guy out in a heavily populated city again. Not without obliging aliens for him to concentrate on.

The job offer is a motivating incentive too. It's ideal for him and Natasha. The Relief Foundation is doing good work; from all reports their efforts beyond supporting the Avengers has been a resounding success. Bruce has first-hand knowledge to provide from his time on the run, of other countries in need of their help. Certainly, it is something he wants to experience, even for a short time. Kind of repaying those areas for shielding him when he needed to hide.

Those years were painful, hiding from the world and trying to erase himself from it. He thinks of the bullet he ate, and the Other Guy spat out. After New York, it would have been easy for him to slip away and disappear, back to that dark place in his head.

But when he had come to in the Tower living room and had looked out of the large windows as the dust settled on the city, he had felt different. With Tony chattering about food behind him, Bruce noted most of the buildings were relatively intact and people were alive – according to a comment from Steve. With thumping in his ears, he sat motionless for several seconds taking the scene in before Tony crouched beside him and asked if he was hungry. Apparently, he and Thor wanted to eat out, and the others wanted to order in and he, Bruce, counted as two votes- him and the Other Guy- so he was the tie breaker. Natasha mentioned they were likely to be surrounded by emergency responders, reporters, and survivors within mere minutes of stepping on the ground. None of them had done this for the credit, no one wanted to face that kind of scrutiny. Tony had whirled on the assassin, his finger wagging just outside of her personal bubble, that this was likely to be the only time they would all be able to eat out as a group because who's going to take notice of a dishevelled, dust covered group of people in their get-up hobbling into a shwarma joint at a time like this? And it would take hours to get anyone to deliver when it was mayhem on the streets.

That seemed to cut off all arguments as Bruce's stomach growled, and he declared he could eat, but he needed new pants first. Tony happily obliged, and after changing Bruce realised they were waiting for him before they took off. He was overcome by an odd sense of belonging to the group who he once referred to as a chemical mixture which makes chaos, a time-bomb about to go off. A couple of days later, when they were meant to part ways, he felt like there was nothing to run from and, unlike in the past, he felt free to stay exactly where he was.

Just like today.

He hates being on the fence with this, and making Natasha doubt his feelings and intentions for her. He largely attributes it to being left out of the loop by Tony and Natasha; she's explained herself now, and Bruce accepts her answers. But Tony is his friend who is steadfastly against keeping secrets, who, after his experience with his own company and SHIELD, is paranoid to a fault about his projects sometimes. Indeed, Bruce is aware it goes against his friend's true nature. He should have been more forthcoming with the details on the new facility. Except he also knows Tony is too boastful to keep something secret without a serious reason. Ultron being one of them. A little hypocritical though it may be, outside influence is, in their experience, often political, which results in the technology being manipulated for twisted agendas rather than the purpose it was designed for. They could let the rest of the team know -they could launch into an explanation of the math behind their design and the team will switch off with how boring it is - but for now this is all theoretical, there's no point in telling people till they have something tangible. With their lack of results, this could all just remain a fantasy.

A shadow forms in the background of the hologram, and Bruce's eyes shift to see Tony looking through the blue glow at him. The scientist cocks an eyebrow at the billionaire, who doesn't look surprised, or the least bit guilty.

"You could've said something," Bruce tells him.

"Yeah, but I know what you're like with change, and this won't be completed for at least a year. We can move in, but the remodelling needs some work. I wanted to have all the details ready before I spoke with you."

"But you spoke with Natasha," Bruce points out.

Tony's mouth twists in a grimace. "Well, I never paid her the last time she worked for me, so I thought she would need more incentive than you do to agree to anything associated with Stark Industries."

"Natasha's more open to it than you realise," Bruce sighs. "We appreciate everything you've done for us, only it's harder for you to hear that gratitude than for any of us to tell you that. Natasha included."

"What, witty commentary, dashing good looks, adding some style to your costumes?"

"Then why does the Other Guy only have stretchy pants? No, I have to wake up half naked and cold," Bruce mumbles with a deep frown.

"What and deprive Romanoff of ogling you?"

Bruce flushes, remembering her reaction when he stepped out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He's acutely aware of the way she looks at him.

"But no, I meant giving us a home when none of us had one," Bruce asserts softly, and gestures at the compound blueprints. "Making another home for us to stay together when we don't have a reason to."

"Are you saying you want to leave?"

"No." It's honestly the last thing he wants. He swipes his hand through the hologram to make it disappear. He smiles sadly as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Why can't you admit that you actually like having us around?"

"Hey! Our love is a love which must not be spoken!" Tony jokes. Bruce forces his lips to remain a thin line, to refrain from laughing at his friend.

"Steve may be our appointed leader because of training and experience, except you've been as, if not more, proactive than any of us when it comes to shielding the team from outsiders."

"By that reasoning, Red has a shot of taking command of this little band of misfits," Tony deflects.

Bruce ignores him. "And what about Maria Hill? You essentially set your most vicious lawyers on the government to keep her out of jail."

"She scares Happy almost as much as Red does, and that's just hilarious, so it's a small price to pay for the entertainment value."

Bruce stares at him, barely able to keep his mouth from twitching at his friend's joke. He manages to supress the impulse long enough to force Tony to stuff his hands in his pockets. His friends' hyperbole is very expressive, through language as much as physical movement, especially his hands. From him to squash such a fundamental part of his body language, almost conscientiously, only proves Bruce's point. Tony's happy enough to be generous as long as no one praises him for it. Whatever the press writes about his work with the Avengers, and charity contributions, means nothing. Genuine appreciation is difficult to handle since it generally provokes a guilt response in the man that he can't cope with.

It takes less than a minute of silence before Tony has to break it. He uses his personal see-through interface to bring the hologram to life again. "Do you realise how hypocritical I'm being with this? Everything I said about Fury, about SHIELD? Then I go and build a training facility designed specifically for the Avengers, giving them a network of support staff under the guise of providing a Relief effort, without consulting any of you."

"Did you ever think you were projecting? Considering your father's involvement with SHIELD, it's perfectly natural—"

Tony holds up a hand to stop him. "Unless you wanna play unwitting therapist again, stop with that train of thought." Tony screws up his face and groans when Bruce stares at him, then gives up. "Yeah, I let him down when I allowed his company to weaponize terrorists. But since I came out as Iron Man, I realised that imaginary paternal disappointment was more normal than I appreciated at the time. After my parent's death, that's all I could focus on and I wanted to reject the tendencies I inherited from him." Just as his eyes avert, Bruce swears he sees them misting over. Tony shrugs. "I failed at that, by the way. I'm more of a workaholic and overachiever than he ever was. Obsessively so."

"Modest too," Bruce quips.

Tony ignores him. "Truth is, all of this, probably brought us closer together than we ever were when he was alive."

"You understand him better."

"Kinda," Tony admits. "I would've preferred to have that ability when he was still around though."

Bruce has found it easier on Tony to let his friend deal with his intermittent moments of grief without comment. Tony composes himself quickly, and gestures at the hologram for the facility to refocus them on the matter at hand. "This was meant to be a surprise for everyone, yet I told our resident assassin, because she would probably find out on her own, since she has a personal-access-all-areas in the mainframe. She's had it since she was undercover as my PA, and I never brought myself to purge it from the system because she used it to save my life, and there was a strong possibility I would need it again. Besides the fact that our girl is a very talented hacker."

"Our girl?" Bruce says proudly.

"Collectively," Tony amends. "In my opinion, it's a travesty that she is the only female representation on the team. And if she ever finds out I referred to her as such, I'll be handing her my own balls."

"Noted, though I would love to see the look on her face when you do that."

"That's just rude," the billionaire grumbles. "Which only proves what a fantastically distasteful influence I have been on your sensibilities."

Bruce humours his joke with a smile. Tony's attitude is refreshing – genuine despite being an ass sometimes. "You could've talked to me. Who was I going to tell?"

"It wasn't about trust, buddy," Tony explains. "No one on this team would say a word to any one, I know that. Can you imagine how suspicious this whole thing looks given the infrastructure being put in right now? The heavy, reinforced automated security which makes it look like a fortress? I wanted to keep the Avengers out of it until it is ready to go, prove everything is above board before you guys decided if you wanted to move in or not, and no one can point fingers at any of you for militarising ourselves. And I know how you feel about anything with those kind on connotations, and I didn't want it to be awkward between us." He sighs. "Now I realise that was a dick move."

"Yeah," Bruce agrees. "Especially when you are forcing Natasha and I to have a conversation about our future."

"I'm not going to apologise for that," Tony counters to Bruce's surprise. "Right now, it's like you're each other's dirty little secret, and you two are better than that."

"No one else needs to know about what happens between myself and Natasha. Let us figure _us_ out at our own pace."

"Fair point," Tony graciously acquiesces. "Would it help if my pushing is purely for self-gain?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, Thor figured it out weeks ago when he caught you two exchanging googly eyes, and he and I have a wager on whether Barton'll figure out for himself that his best friend has a crush on the Hulk. Thor's seriously overestimating Hawkeye's ability to spot the obvious."

"Why don't you just tell him then?"

"One, I can't – I'll lose the bet. Two, I'm scared of what Red will do to me if I do."

Bruce huffs out a laugh as he nods with his explanation. "You know, Thor knows, Barton doesn't – what about Steve?"

"He mentioned something about biding his time till you outed yourselves, before he gets revenge for all the hassle she gave him about dating. He needs time to add flair to his retaliation repertoire; it's a little weak. Basically, payback's a bitch."

"Language!" Bruce snickers.

"Exactly!" Tony crows with a clap on his shoulder. "Which I gotta credit to Red, because I never got the chance to tell you about our fearless leader's aversion to the naughty words."

"It's pretty obvious," Bruce murmurs, while not confirming Tony's educated guess. "Three out of four know, that doesn't exactly give me an incentive to sing it from the rooftops. What happens if you win?"

"I get to party on Asgard," Tony replies.

"And Thor?" Bruce prompts.

"He and I go head to head while I'm wearing Veronica," Tony gulps lightly.

"Now that's an incentive!"

"Hey! You like me more than him," comes Tony's indignant response.

"A fact that I'm questioning that more and more every day," Bruce jokes. "That aside, why do you want us there? We could just walk away, no questions asked."

"Look, if you disappear into the sunset with Romanoff, it'll be easier for someone to make you disappear without any of us knowing about it. Though this might look more suspicious, I'd rather know where you are and you're safe."

"People are going to question the decision to gather your businesses into one main campus whether we move in straight away or not. Where do I figure into your plan for the new facility? The Relief Foundation gets Natasha, what part do I play?"

"You're the sweetener for Romanoff in this deal, obviously."

"In other words, you're pimping me out," Bruce says without missing a beat, no hesitation at all.

"Pimping you out?" Comes the mock outrage. "I can't pimp myself out here, I don't think my services would be well received."

"I think your services would be cut off before they're received," the scientist deadpans.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," the billionaire replies, while self-consciously covering his groin. "Romanoff is already having her wicked way with you, she certainly seems satisfied with your services. Be a bro, take one for the team."

"No one's having their wicked way with anyone," Bruce says choosing to look at the 3D rendering of the new labs at the facility instead of his friend. Squinting at the large space next to them like the Hulk tank situated next to the one they're standing in.

"Are you kidding me? I came in here the other night and the woman was straddling you. You couldn't keep your hands off each other."

Bruce rolls his eyes and sighs as hand swipes at the diagram to make it disappear. "It's not like that," he sighs. "Well it is but we haven't... not yet."

"Why not?"

"You know why," Bruce wearily exhales. "Can you imagine the Other Guy waking up to find Natasha in that position?" He shakes his head. "I'm not going to risk that."

Tony folds his arms over his chest after sighing, then his gaze rakes over Bruce before he addresses him sincerely, lowering his voice and talking in a gentle and serious tone. "You once said that about letting her work with him too." He pauses. "This is Natasha _freaking_ Romanoff we're talking about, if anyone can calm the Big Guy down it's her." He pulls a face. "Actually, she _is_ the only one who can calm him down." He studies Bruce again. "Wait, you said 'not yet'."

Bruce scratches the back of his neck as he feels the heat rise to his face. "Well, like you said the other night…" he trails off and gestures at his work station in the corner, his implication crystal clear for his friend to interpret. "We were _talking_ before you and I started working on the Sceptre."

"You turned down _the_ Black Widow for a stick with a glowing gem?" The one-time playboy accuses him, his faces contorting horrifically, completely aghast by Bruce's decision.

"An _alien_ stick with a glowing gem," Bruce defends meekly. He breathes in shakily. "With all my hang ups about the Other Guy, I know she'll be patient and will wait them out if that's what I want. But…"

"But?" Tony prods.

"It's very difficult to say no to her," Bruce admits, while trying to hide his soft smile from his friend, which is fast becoming his knee jerk reaction when he thinks of her. "She does so much for me and for him. I shouldn't expect her to wait for me, it's not fair on her. A relationship is about give and take, I can't expect her to give everything up for me."

To Tony's credit, if he's shocked by Bruce's words he doesn't show it. "If Natasha isn't happy with your situation, she would've let you know by now. She's not the kind of woman who would entertain it, you know that." He pauses and steps closer to Bruce. "You didn't ask her to give anything up. You seem to think she's making allowances for you and the Hulk. I don't think she started the Lullaby because she cared about you, it works because you care about each other. The Hulk would've called her out if she doesn't, right?"

Bruce thinks about it for a moment before nodding.

"You may think you're holding her back, but I don't think she sees it that way. You are one of the few people, and now I can finally include myself in that exclusive group, who looks at her and sees the person she is now, rather than the person she used to be. You're the guy who was brave enough to make he and J sandwich when no one else dared to go anywhere near her. You may not think you do that much for her, but the little things mean more than you realise. You two have a connection she probably thought was impossible, and I get the impression neither of you have really comprehended the true depth which the rest of us can see." Tony pauses at Bruce's pointed look. "I may give you both a hard time, only it's pretty clear to see. You could walk away, without her, but what would that do besides make you both miserable?"

Bruce closes his eyes briefly. Hearing the words out loud make him realise it's the last thing he wants. It's selfish, yet he can't leave her. Natasha changed his life; she brought him into the Avengers after their first fateful encounter; put herself between his other half and the world several times over. She's achieved something he's only been able to fantasize about by bringing him out of his green haze. She doesn't just accept him and the monster he carries, she makes them better. The depth of his feelings for her isn't something he can't quite put into words, not yet.

"I'm not going anywhere without Natasha," Bruce finally admits. "But I was thinking of starting with a vacation not a long-term commitment. Our lives are too chaotic and unmediated to plan for the future."

"Sipping mai thais on the beach?" Tony questions, repeating his words when he pitched the idea of Ultron to him.

Bruce bobs his head in agreement, thinking of Natasha relaxing on a beach. They'll always be looking over their shoulders, it's ingrained into them. He supposes that's an advantage to an isolated, heavily defended facility. Also means that for Tony's little retirement plan for them to work, they would have to be assigned together regardless for the foreseeable future.

"What do you have to lose?" Tony jokingly asks.

"Her."

"She isn't going anywhere Buddy," Tony replies with confidence.

"I'm beginning to realise that." If the Other Guy doesn't make her run for the hills, nothing will. If anything, she quite likes that side of him, even if he can't see the appeal.

"I know you were out of the dating game for a while, so if you ever need any tips—"

"Tips for what not to do?" Bruce jokes.

"I'm offering to help and you're giving me schtick, talk about gratitude," Tony fires back. "Well, if you ever want to expand on your game of 'I'm a nerd, hear me roar', you know where to find me." Bruce can't help himself, he laughs. Tony claps a hand on his shoulder, "If you and I can create a little peace on Earth with Ultron, we can put a Black Widow on the Hulk."

Bruce groans and covers his face with his hand. "She's going to kill us both."

"You don't think she'll appreciate that? How about 'hide the zucchini'?"

…

Natasha kicks off the wall of the gym into a spin and puts as much force as she can into the punch she aims at Steve's chest. The super soldier grunts, and to Natasha's gratification falters on his footing. Gleam in her eye, she follows with some caution; Steve's likely to retaliate any moment now, because he respects her too much to ever go easy on her. As much as she enjoys their banter during their sparring, she wants to concentrate, since this will likely be their last time for a while, as he plans to take off with Sam Wilson the following morning on a new lead on his long-lost friend Barnes.

Natasha recoils to throw another blow in Steve's direction only for him to dodge it and use her momentum against her to catch her off-guard. She recovers, and they circle each other on the workout matt.

They've done two rotations before Steve breaks their pattern by asking, "How's things going with the good doctor?"

Natasha's head snaps up as she realises that's a mistake as Steve uses her distraction to close in on her and sweeps her leg out from under before she can react. Lying on the matt she sends him a mock glare, "Dirty tactics, Rogers."

"Just like you taught me," Captain America responds with a flash of an appeasing smile before sitting on the matt about a metre away. "You never answered."

"Do you really expect an answer? What happens between me and Bruce is no one else's business," Natasha snarks as lifts off the matt to prop herself up on her hands. It's not a surprise to her that other people were aware of her relationship with Bruce; she just never expected to be called out by anyone but Stark. Much less their resident gentleman.

"So, there is a you and Bruce?"

"You're giving me boy advice?" Her question is more of a dare as her head tilts inquisitively. She's rewarded by the slight reddening of his cheeks. She smirks; he still flounders when she teases him, and she hopes that never changes.

"Since you dole out girl advice, I thought I'd return the favour."

"You do know I was vetting those girls for the ones which genuinely swoon over America's Star-Spangled hero, and the ones who were out to play you, right?"

She doesn't mean that unkindly or that she thinks he's gullible, far from it, she's just pointing it out. There's such a big buzz around him, and considering her former role with America's enemies, it was an angle she couldn't help looking at. She knew what to look for; she'd perfected the act years ago, when she was far too young. Not that she didn't think Steve needed to get out more, he did. He was lonely. And a touch heartbroken at what had happened to his sweetheart in the intervening years. Still is if she's honest. He needed to be more comfortable in this era. At first, he didn't completely trust her, she knew that. She respected him despite his disdain for her methods, but she thought she might be able to get him to warm up to her by helping him with the modern-day woman. Playing an active role in setting him up, let her be in a position to assess every date for potential threats to Captain America. His flustering was an added bonus for her.

"While Fury was assigning Sharon to me? Did you know about her?" Steve asks out of the blue.

"No, I didn't. Even if I had I still would've pushed you to ask her out. She likes you, you like her. She proved herself by doing the right thing," Natasha shrugs. Steve doesn't deny her use of the present tense. If he can just look past the undercover agent part, Natasha already has her current phone number to give him.

"She lied Nat," Steve sighs.

Maybe not.

Steve shakes his head, clearing it of thoughts of the woman who is the source of his turmoil. "We're not talking about me, Nat, we're talking about you."

Damn. So close.

She supposes it's only fair considering the grief she gave him. Giving him a dirty look, she allows, "You get one question."

"I'm not saying he's not the right guy for you, I guess it's just I can't see the common interests between you two," Steve phrases carefully. "He's not a fighter."

"I'm more than a fighter, we all are. Part of him is the ultimate fighter, however reluctant, but he's more than that – he's intelligent, sweet, he's such a dork he makes me laugh," Natasha informs him lightly. "He…When I'm around him it's easy to be me. He doesn't expect a soldier, a spy, a seducer. He makes me feel free to be me."

Something she's struggled with even in her own mind. Finding an identity when she's continuously been assigned one hasn't come easy. She spent months grieving what now feels like a lie, consoling herself with the fact that she survived another betrayal.

"I'm happy for you," Steve tells her with a glint of pride in his eyes. "For you to admit you're more than what you used to think you were, just proves how far you've come Nat. Got to admit you had me worried for a while."

"Shock will do that to you," Natasha says with difficulty. Steve nods understandingly, notes the flicker of her eyes and lets it drop.

"So, is your new cover everything you thought it'd be?" He asks lightening the mood.

"Who says it's cover?" Natasha counters lightly, remembering what Bruce asked her months ago after SHIELD was torn apart.

"You're different than you used to be, gentler, more open. It's refreshing from how you were before _and_ after SHIELD fell," he smiles. "Banner's a good influence on you."

"Yeah," she admits.

"I'm sensing there's something that's bothering you."

"He does sometimes," Natasha admits. "I understand why he's guarded, I am for the same reasons. I know he cares about me and there are times when those feelings seem to outweigh everything else. Then something happens, the Big Guy moves a fraction in the wrong direction, and he's reminded of how scared he is of hurting me. Or at least the Hulk hurting me."

"Do you blame him?" Steve asks, genuinely confused. "I've been through that experiment Nat, it's painful especially if you come out of it straight into a fight, and I was in control the whole time, I never hurt someone I loved. With what came after, dealing with that guilt, trying to make peace with that and the Hulk... Banner's a lot more resilient than people give him credit for. I don't think you should dismiss his reluctance here Nat."

"I'm not," she gently insists. "I just want him to realise he doesn't have to protect me from either of them."

"Maybe we should show him the recording of you using the Hulk as a climbing frame," Steve suggests.

"Or not," Natasha grounds out. She can just picture Bruce's reaction to that little snippet. "I don't know how to convince him that I don't need to be wrapped in wool."

"I'm not sure you can," Steve tells her. "All you can do is adapt. You know what it's like to carry that pain with you, it's a part of you and no one can take it from you. Don't focus on it, don't let him. Focus on what you've done since, how your life has changed. Happiness is not the absence of problems, it's the ability to deal with them. You don't have to have all the answers to move forward. Nat, if you want him, tell him. Persuade him."

….

Once their time is up two days later, Bruce makes his way back to his room. After several failed attempts to launch Ultron, he and Tony give up. Thor is getting antsy about returning to Asgard and put the Sceptre in his father's weapons vault. He and Tony are grateful for opportunity to work with it, and neither want to say anything to jeopardise future opportunities to work with alien technology Thor may offer them. Besides, they might get a chance to visit in the future.

Bruce leaves Tony in the lab to lick his own pride. They have as much information as they're going to get from the Sceptre for the time being, and if Tony wants to continue tinkering with the idea, he can and probably will. Bruce isn't as enamoured with the idea as the billionaire is; he wants to go back to his own research. Out of all the ground-breaking research there is in the field, Bruce still thinks his friend has the best shot at creating artificial life. Not just because his funding is better than most labs, but because they don't have Tony who is both brilliant, and already halfway there with JARVIS.

He makes his way across the living room, trying to dodge people setting up for the party which seems more of an event than necessary. Just as he's about to enter the hallway before he catches sight of Steve in the corner, cell phone to his ear as he speaks to Sam who will also be attending the party which starts in about an hour. The super soldier raises his hand in acknowledgement before carrying on with his conversation.

He manages to make it to his corridor without encountering anyone else. He's not comfortable with this many people milling around and he only agreed to attend because Tony badgered him into attending. Having not seen her for two days, he knocks on Natasha's door lightly hoping to rekindle and settle their conversation about the facility from the other day before the party begins. Silence answers him. Putting his ear to the door, he hears the faint sound of water running and assumes she's in the shower. If he could trust himself not to flounder or do anything dorky to embarrass himself, he would let himself in to wait for her but he doesn't think he'd be able to pull it off with the same finesse she did the other day. Slightly deflated, he turns to cross the hall to his room.

…..

Natasha stands in front of her mirror holding up two vintage dresses; black and white, or green and gold. She's dressed for men before, but they don't count; they were marks she was working. They didn't mean anything to her, nor did their opinion, she just needed their attention. This is different, Bruce isn't a target and she already has his attention. She's doing this to see his eyes light up appreciatively. After another minute, she puts the green dress back in her closet; the hue is too similar to the Hulk's. Any other time, she'd relish seeing Bruce fluster as he makes the association.

He'll be nervous and twitchy because of the crowd but she wants him to enjoy tonight. She'd prefer it if it were just the team and close confidents like Hill, Rhodey and Sam. She'll miss them, Stark too; she'd never tell him. Ever. The man's got a big enough ego as it is.

Dressing quickly, she checks her hair and make-up haven't been smudged; her bright berry coloured lips curve into a slanted smile. Pleased with what she sees, Natasha puts her short dangly ear rings in. Finally ready, she decides she needs a drink before the massive living room fills up with all the people Stark invited to the party. Opening the door, she finds Bruce dressed more smartly than she's ever seen him, poised to knock.

…..

His hand is about to connect with wood when it's pulled open to reveal Natasha. Bruce stares stupidly for a good thirty seconds before her lips curl into a come-hither smile, snapping him out of his daze. Unable to trust his voice, he lets his eyes drift over her. In the black and white ensemble, her short hair styled just right, she looks like she's just stepped out of the classic films he enjoys watching. Finally settling on her face, his gaze falls to the coy smile; the berry coloured lip gloss holding his attention for longer than it should till she clears her throat. She looks simply… "Stunning."

He doesn't realise he's uttered the word till she ducks her chin almost bashfully at his compliment. She recovers well as she steps forward and her hand toys with his skinny tie, centring the knot. He looks down in amusement at the overly familiar action then at her only for her to flutter her eyelashes innocently. With a casual glance toward the end of the hall to make sure the coast is clear, she tugs the tie to pull him over the threshold into her room. "Pretty good yourself," she murmurs tightening her grip to draw him down for a quick peck on the lips before releasing him to stare up at him through her lashes. "Missed you."

Unable to stop himself from touching her, his hands skim her waist. "Too bad we have to spend a few hours pretending we're just friends."

"Friends can talk," she tells him, still fiddling with his tie. With a quick glance past him to check the hall is clear, she leans up to peck him on the lips quickly. "If it was just the team, maybe we could… but it's not, it's the whole world out there."

"Do you think they'll notice if we skip the party?"

She humours him with a soft smile, and a slight shake of her head. "If Barton and Rogers have to endure it, they'll make sure we all do. They'll track us down and bring the party to us if we resist," she sighs. "Besides our hiding places are fairly limited; the lab or the roof."

"We haven't been out on the roof for a while," Bruce muses.

"We'd have to go through the party, unseen," Natasha points out.

"I pretty sure we could give it a good shot," Bruce counters lightly. Natasha tilts her head as sounds of instrumental jazz and excited chatter floats down the hall to illustrate her point. "It's already in full swing down there," he sighs. He feels his pulse kick up a gear at the mere thought of mingling in a crowd of people he doesn't know.

"Are you going to be okay?" Natasha asks.

"Yeah," he breathes out. It's been a long time since he's been able to use the Other Guy as an excuse in these types of situations; the rest of the Avengers, Natasha and Tony in particular, will be with him and will be able to realise when he needs rescuing.

"What would make this easier for you?"

"Don't pretend you're going to enjoy this either; a couple of hours mingling with people who will either be working up the nerve to hit on you or asking you to regale them with stories from missions while you're trying to blend into the background."

"You could hit on me," she suggests playfully.

"Ugh, I could give it a shot." A little huff escapes him at that and his face is burning as she watches him. He swallows thickly as he tries to think of a come back to her invitation.

"Hope so, I didn't get all dressed up for nothing."

His eyes bulge as he does another quick inventory of her outfit to see if there was another detail he may have missed. Unable to fathom the concept of her picking a dress for his benefit, he blurts out, "I would like to talk to you later about the new facility."

"You would?" Her eyes brighten hopefully.

"Yeah—"

"Put him down Romanoff, we have a party to attend," Tony cuts in from behind Bruce. "You can't keep him to yourself all night."

"Wanna bet?" Natasha says just as she stops touching Bruce.

"She's got a pretty good chance," Bruce acknowledges. Knowing their private time is growing short, he is reluctant to let her go completely so one hand stays at her waist as he turns to see Tony looking down the hall.

"If I'm going stag to this, you both are too," Tony replies emphatically.

"You wouldn't be like this if Pepper were here," Bruce points out. Natasha strums her fingers on his lapels lightly. He chances a glance at her, the slight reproach in her eyes as her nose twitches a fraction. It was a poor choice of words. "If she can't come to you, you should go to her," he adds kindly.

Tony's hand claps his shoulder to let him know it's okay, he didn't take offence. "First thing after the hangover clears. Before that, I need to settle a bet with Thor."

"No," Bruce shakes his head.

"Thought you and Thor aren't allowed to tell Barton about us," Natasha says casually, as she extracts herself from Bruce's embrace to pass both men to the hall.

"All seeing, all knowing," Tony mutters. "I'd enquire about your source, except I'm worried they'd be found dead. From natural causes of course. Is there anything you don't know?"

"Not going to dignify that with an answer." With a slight flourish of her dress Natasha leads the way down the hall.

….

An hour into the party, Bruce manages to ditch Tony, abandoning him to Thor before they start comparing Pepper and Jane, and blends into the background. Sticking close to the wall, he's able to avoid the eager guests and just watch. One of the benefits of being able to transform, is people rarely recognise you, with the added bonus of being a natural introvert, people just seem to pass him by. He's able to people watch for a while before he starts feeling like a creep. He spies Natasha by a flash of her red hair as she moves toward the bar.

She lifts the counter to slip through, as she ignores the bartenders to start fixing herself a drink. She doesn't show any signs of knowing he's watching her, yet he knows she must sense it. She's fairly popular tonight, as this is the first time he's seen her without anyone hanging onto her every word. She knows how to keep someone occupied without giving much away. Self-consciously toying with his tie's knot, he wishes he had his own drink as he figures this might be his only opportunity to follow through on her request.

As Bruce moves away from the wall he tries to come up with an opening line which won't sound too cheesy. He supposes this is the dilemma every person faces when they try to figure out _how_ to hit on the Black Widow. Assuming they know who she is when they do so, or they had no clue and just saw a beautiful woman. He's pretty sure she likes him, so at least that's in his favour.

"How'd a nice girl like you wind up working in a dump like this?" Bruce saddles up to the bar with a tiny, awkward smile.

Natasha brightens when she looks up from pouring her pink drink into a cocktail glass. "Fella done me wrong."

As soon as she's finished pouring, she pulls another glass out from underneath the bar to fill with the remainder of the shaker she mixed. She slides it to him over the glass top bar and their fingers touch briefly as he accepts it. He's a little cautious as he sips the fruity concoction and he bobs his head as he realises it weaker than anyone would think.

"You got lousy taste in men, kid," Bruce replies, playing along with her. If her sly smirk is anything to go by, Natasha is quite pleased with it too.

"He's not so bad. Well, he has a temper." She says casually and looks up at him under her lashes. "Deep down, he's all fluff." She pauses again and gives him a quick assessing flicker of her eyes before dropping their act, looking almost nervous. "Fact is, he's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters. And here comes this guy, spends his life avoiding the fight because he knows he'll win," Natasha finishes meaningfully.

"Sounds amazing," Bruce swallows, his chest clenching. Her vulnerability is his undoing.

"He's also a huge dork. Chicks dig that," she informs him swiftly, quick to reassure without her expression losing any of its openness. "So, what do you think? Should I fight this, or run with it?"

 _Fight this?_ He registers with a slight panic thinking she's finally figured out she was better off without him. He flounders a tad as he stammers, "Run with it, right? Or did he... Was he... What did he do that was so wrong to you?"

"Not a damn thing," she emphasis with a husky voice. She was messing with him. "But never say never."

Natasha sashays away down the bar as a shadow enters his line of sight as his eyes follow her. He's effectively blocked by Steve with a perceptive smile on his face. Bruce just knows he's gearing up for one of his pep talks by the way he's leaning on the bar, apparently having just witnessed the conversation between himself and Natasha.

"It's nice."

"What is?" Bruce tries playing dumb in case there's the slightest chance he can prevent Steve from giving him an unnecessary, _uncomfortable,_ conversation.

"You and Romanoff."

Unsure whether they are ready for others, besides Tony, to know Bruce stammers, "No, we haven't... That wasn't..."

Though romantic relations weren't explicitly forbidden from the Legionnaire the team composed when they first agreed to work together after finding out about HYDRA, no one mentioned it but Bruce figured it may go against Steve's personal code due to his military background.

"It's okay. Nobody's breaking any bylaws," Steve holds up a hand as he chuckles. "It's just she's not the most open person in the world. But with you she seems very relaxed," the super soldier approves.

"No. Natasha, she's just... She likes to flirt." For Bruce, it's a valiant effort to try and deter Steve. He doesn't want to out their relationship without Natasha explicitly saying she's fine with people knowing.

"I've seen her flirt, up close. This ain't that," Steve counters. Then he tries a different tactic, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't. You both deserve a win."

Bruce goes to move after him only for a swarm of women to envelope the tall muscled man. Beyond them he sees Natasha beckon him with a nod of her head as she stands beside the door leading out to the roof. Making his way carefully around the group, he follows her out onto the roof.

"Hey Doc," Natasha waits for him at the railing.

His feet close the remaining distance quickly. "Why do I think you had something to do with the flock of women who just cornered Steve?"

"Because I did," Natasha confirms. "You have no idea what the words 'single Steve Rogers' will do to a horde like that."

"I do now," Bruce laughs and glances over his shoulder at their comrade who has now been joined by his friend Sam in the middle of the haggle of women, but he didn't appear to be helping the man out of his time fend off their advances in fact he seems to be encouraging the women by being Steve's wing man, much to the Captain's chargin.

"Are you enjoying yourself on the side lines?" Natasha asks.

He's not surprised she was able to keep track of him without his knowledge. "It's not that bad, you must have spent hours watching people for surveillance."

"Yeah, there was this one guy who comes to mind. No formal training but just as good as any seasoned agent when it comes to keeping a low profile," she points out.

"Yet you found me," Bruce replies.

"I never lost you," she reminds him.

"I hope you never will," he says it as a promise.

Her stomach flutters as she ducks her head to compose herself. "We've got the first hour under our belt, I think, for appearances' sake," she says. "You said you wanted to talk about the facility."

Bruce nods and looks over her shoulder at the peaceful skyline draped in deep purple. The City is particularly quiet tonight. Retrieving the Sceptre has given them a lot of leeway with the Government and their protestors. Tonight, their fans are camped outside celebrating on the sidewalk and ready to catch any glimpse of this band of heroes.

"Truth is, I don't care where we go Natasha, I just want to spend some more time getting to know you. And I would like us to visit the facility together before we make any decisions," he tells her. She nods once. Bruce gestures inside, "I…uh…what you said about fighting this…us…do you?"

There had been a certain vulnerability belying her words as she exposed her true feelings to him under the guise of playful banter. A truth she wanted him to decipher and act upon.

"No," her voice hitches slightly, sounding raw and cautious all at the same time.

"Good," he nods absently before meeting her eyes. "Because I want to run with this, with you," Bruce promises, reaching out to take her hand in his. Her fingers intertwine with his automatically. He squeezes gently and steps into her personal space. Lowering his voice, he admits, "I know there are times when I have doubts, but none of those are about you Natasha."

"They're not?" She pins him with a guarded look.

"No." He confirms, taking a deep breath. "They're about me, and I'll never be able to repay what you've done for me."

"I haven't—"

"You have, you know you have, not that you'll ever admit it." Bruce sighs. "I'm last person the world needs, I can destroy more of it than I can fix, I can tear it apart and that scares the hell out of me. When I'm him, I'm trapped in this green haze and nothing can reach me except your voice. Natasha, you've given me something no one has ever been able to do, and it's the deeper meaning behind that which has been hard for me to accept." He swallows thickly. "Natasha, you centre me. You make me _and_ him better. You make me feel safe with him."

He wants to offer her something beyond a future of being secluded in a facility going on field trips with a team. Her life has been constant, jumping from one assignment to another. It's a life she's known since she can remember, he wants to her have more than that. She deserves more. After everything they've been through, she deserves some peace and quiet even for just a little while.

He'll always struggle to express the depth of his feelings for her but if he can provide her with the same amount of the acceptance and understanding she's shown him, he'll be happy.

Natasha Romanoff. The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

"Natasha, you mean so much to both of us and I don't want to do anything to ruin things between us. There are going to be times when I want to protect you because I care about you, not because I doubt your ability to take care of yourself."

Her relief shows as she exhales softly and pushes herself from the railing and into his embrace. Her free hand cups his neck as their foreheads meet. "That goes both ways Bruce. Some people believe you don't have to understand someone to believe in them, we understand each other too much to believe pursuing a relationship like this is possible. Only we've already proved ourselves wrong."

"We have." He leans in to capture her lips in a promise he can't quite put into words as eloquently as he'd like. She meets him eagerly in such a chaste way, her mouth lingering close to his as he pulls back. "You deserve so much more than I can give you."

"You're selling yourself a little short," she assures him. "You may not think you're worth the effort but I do. Even when you're trained to supress every emotion in favour of putting your job first, there are still somethings which will throw you. You make me react in a way I don't with others. When we first met, you surprised the hell out of me," she huffs a quiet laugh as she licks her lips. "No one ever pulls anything on me like that because they're too afraid of me, you weren't."

"If I remember correctly, you _pulled_ a gun on me."

"You were mean," Natasha states lightly. "Then you were apologising as you saw the real me," the words catch in her throat. "Then I met the Big Guy."

Bruce swallows so loud she can hear it, yet she continues undeterred. "He sees me too, recognises a part of me. When I'm performing the lullaby, he's so gentle with me and I realise how special that connection is, I've never felt anything like it."

"Natasha," Bruce whispers.

"Ssh," she soothes. "You see through all of my defences, no one's ever done that."

Bruce pulls her into his body, their cheeks grazing lightly. She allows it for a beat before her hand snakes between them to cover his heart. It's strong and steady beneath her palm. "I used to think about who people want me to be. You want me to be me."

At a loss for words, Bruce seizes her mouth, kissing her soundly. Natasha returns it with equal fervour, their actions have always said more than any words can express. The kiss ends and she enjoys the warmth of his body around hers as their quiet for a long time, nothing else needs to be said.

"Really?" Barton's voice pulls them apart and they look up just as the archer jumps down from the ledge above the door. None of them say a word as he frowns at them for long moment before shrugging, "Alright."

THE END

 **Well, there it is. I'm just going to go duck and cover, don't hate me for that ending – in my defence, I have a tendency to end with cliff hangers and I could've done that with Bruce and Natasha; this was the nicer option XD. It's been a rollercoaster of a year and you've been so patient with me, I'm so grateful. Thank you all for your kind comments. I'm a little bittersweet right now, always am when I come to the end of a story. I've already started bouncing ideas around with Black' Victor Cachat about my next one.**


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